


It's More Than Just Parts

by Fianna9, gatekat



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Creepy!Jazz, Lots of G1 Imports, M/M, Post-War, Reprogramming, Spark Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3660888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fianna9/pseuds/Fianna9, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jazz is killed by Megatron, he leaves a large hole in many lives. The two largest holes were in mechs that weren't even there to see him fall: his mate and his SIC. When they arrive on Earth and are repaired, they find themselves drawn together. Despite the odd looks, it works for them. But is it really <i>them</i>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sun and Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, if they didn't appear in movie 1, it's the G1 version. Prowl, Bluestreak, Smokescreen, Dinobots, etc are all imports, not the comic or later movie versions.
> 
> Mirage: <http://alteride.deviantart.com/art/Dathanna-de-Gray-Mirage-214577280>

"We have two comet modes incoming. Transponder says Autobot," the human operator on shift reported to the room.

Sideswipe rolled over to the Cybertronian sized readout and was suddenly even more excited than usual. ::Sunny's coming!:: he chittered over the general comm in Cybertronian. ::He's coming home.::

::Sideswipe, what are his landing coordinates?:: Prime's calm voice cut through Sideswipe's excitement

::Sorry, sir. There's two inbound including Sunny.:: Sideswipe was practically bouncing in place. ::I've got their projected landing time too, sir.:: He chirped as he databurst the information. ::Who's coming? He needs Ratchet. He's too quiet. Too stressed.::

::Ratchet and I are going with you. Arcee is on her way to replace you so get moving, punk.:: Ironhide nodded to Prime before heading out. He didn't like leaving Prime like this but sending Sideswipe out with just Ratchet would be asking for someone to come back in pieces.

::Who's the other one?:: Ratchet demanded as he joined the conversation.

::Umm, urrr ... giberish?:: Sideswipe eventually answered, still staring at the screen. ::I can't read it.::

There was a pause as the others logged in to get a direct download.

::Oh _joy_ ,:: Ratchet groaned. ::I so do not need that.::

::Okay, I can't understand the words, but I know _that_ sound. Who's incoming?:: Lennox demanded in English.

::Sunstreaker and Mirage,:: Optimus replied smoothly in English. ::Sunstreaker is one of Sideswipe's creation cohort.::

::Twin brother, one of five.:: Ratchet added. ::He makes Sideswipe seem sane and tame.::

::Hay!:: Sideswipe objected, only to catch both Ratchet and Ironhide laughing. ::Okay, so it's true.::

::And Mirage?:: Lennox asked as Sideswipe joined Ironhide and Ratchet near the tarmac.

::He's SpecOps. Jazz's SIC.:: Ironhide grunted.

::He's an arrogant aristocrat who thinks he's better than almost everyone else and doesn't get along with most mechs. He's also one of the best spies left from either side of this slagging war.:: Ratchet grumbled. ::I'm not looking forward to him finding out Jazz is gone.::

::Don't look at me.:: Ironhide shoved Ratchet's shoulder. ::Not my responsibility to tell him. I'm just here knock some sense into Sunstreaker if he doesn't listen to Sideswipe.::

::I will tell him.:: Optimus rumbled across the common comm line as the transport rolled into place for Sideswipe, Ironhide and Ratchet to board. ::It will not be as bad as you imagine.::

::If you say so, Prime.:: Ironhide added in Cybertronian. He didn't seem to be completely buying into Prime's confidence. ::Sideswipe, you get to tell Sunstreaker the news.::

:: _After_ he's repaired and stable. I'm not _that_ suicidal.:: Sideswipe huffed to a few snickers.

* * *

The three Autobots watched two comet forms descend, the angle shallow to avoid damage and sacrificing finish for the slower stop. It wasn't a good sign. A fit mech would come almost strait down on such a soft world

"It's for Mirage," Sideswipe said quietly. "Sunny's hurt and desperate for a full defrag, but not that bad off."

"Slag it." Ratchet grumbled, knowing his Medbay was woefully lacking in supplies. Human tech was good enough for some things they needed but not very good as actual replacement parts. It meant doing what he hated the most about war-time medical: scavenging the dead for what he needed. It would be even worse with Mirage, because there were so few of the quality to integrate into his frame well. Really, of those he had, only one came close enough to use.

He could only hope that Prowl, when he arrived, would forgive him the necessity.

The impacts shook the ground and kicked up a long cloud of debris, but when it settled the three standing could tell that both of the newcomers were in bad shape. Sunstreaker was the first to make it to his pedes, his protoform shimmering in the moonlight. Sideswipe was already moving before Sunstreaker was even finished rising. "Sunny!" He bellowed, ignoring everyone else as he focused completely on his brother. Everyone noticed when Sunstreaker didn't bother to correct him

With a grunt, Ironhide and Ratchet headed for Mirage. Although they could see his attempts to move, he did not manage to rise before the two of them got there. No matter how little Ironhide liked him on a personal level, he was well aware of how badly damaged the mech had to be for that to happen. Mirage was as stubborn as any warrior when it came to his pride and appearance of strength.

"Down," Ratchet grumble and was immediately obeyed, the slender protoform sinking to the ground with a small sound of relief and pain crackling in his field strongly enough that even Ironhide grunted in sympathy. Ratchet knelt next to the injured mech, snarling to himself as he cataloged all of the apparent injuries. Mirage was going to be confined in Medbay for a long time, and Ratchet was already tabulating parts he was going to have to strip from Jazz's frame. Fortunately Mirage was coherent enough that Ratchet wouldn't have too many issues putting him in stasis. ::Get ready to load him up as soon as he's out.:: Ratchet commed Ironhide as he prepped Mirage for transport.

::Right,:: Ironhide nodded and gave a glance at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. The protoform was resting willingly in his brother's embrace, a sign of just how exhausted Sunstreaker must be. It was nice for Ironhide though, that all the vorns separated hadn't damaged their creation cohort bond.

* * *

Optimus paused for a klik before entering Medbay to speak with Mirage. After seven orn Ratchet had finally classified the former noble as stable. Mirage was now allowed to remain conscious, and it was time for Prime to brief him on their current situation. As he stepped into Ratchet's domain, Optimus turned towards the elegant mech. Despite his orders to remain laying down, Mirage did his best to bow until Ratchet's hand forced him flat again with a snarl.

"My Lord Prime," Mirage greeted him with the full honorific of his title, and Optimus allowed him the three kliks.

"Greetings, Mirage." Optimus included Mirage's full designation, noting but not commenting on the slight shift to Mirage's voice. He did not prefer to dwell on this particularly unpleasant side of current medical practices. "You are recovered sufficiently to be debriefed?" The question was directed as much at Ratchet as it was Mirage.

"You wouldn't be here if he wasn't," Ratchet snorted.

"Of course, my Lord Prime," Mirage used the shortened though still formal variant of the title.

"You have prepared your report on your last assignment?" Prime tensed internally, waiting for Mirage to speak. "There have been some dramatic changes recently."

"I have the working draft complete, my Lord Prime. The final report will take another orn, if I am allowed to work on it," Mirage gave Ratchet a meaningful look. Ratchet just grunted noncommittally

"I will expect your report within the next two orns." Optimus stated firmly allowing Mirage his time to work while still acknowledging Ratchet some of his prerogative as CMO. "The most important thing to tell you is that Megatron is dead."

There was a long silence as Mirage processed that. "Who rules the Decepticons now, my Lord Prime?" he asked quietly.

"We believe Starscream is attempting to build a following, but we have not determined how many are willing to serve him. Neither Soundwave nor Shockwave have made an appearance yet on Earth. We are tentatively working with the native _humans_ to build a new home for our people and keep them safe from those Decepticons who chose to continue fighting." He stressed the correct name for their allies knowing Mirage's view of organic lifeforms. He felt the twist of disgust in the former noble's field, but also that it was quickly controlled. Mirage would obey his Prime.

There was another lingering pause as Mirage looked around the medbay carefully before focusing on Optimus once more. "Jazz did not survive."

"No, he sacrificed himself in an attempt to stop Megatron." Optimus took a moment to remember the mech who -- despite all their disagreements -- he had considered a close colleague if not a friend.

"Has Prowl survived?" Mirage asked quietly, the hints in his harmonics speaking to how little he expected a positive answer.

"Prowl has not arrived on Earth." Optimus answered somberly. "As of yet he is unaware of Jazz's fate."

"I understand, my Lord Prime," Mirage held his voice and field steady.

Despite it, Optimus could feel how badly Mirage wanted time and privacy to break down and finish processing. He would not pretend to understand the relationships involved, but he knew that Jazz and Prowl were dangerously close, and so were Jazz and Mirage. There was every possibility that he would lose them both, yet there was also a real possibility that the loyalty and sense of duty both had would keep them in their frames. It was that sense of duty that Optimus was going to appeal to now. "Mirage, I need you to take over as head of SpecOps. I need your experience to help us locate Soundwave and Shockwave if they are anywhere near Earth. We need to know where their loyalties lie now that Megatron is gone."

"Understood, my Lord Prime. It will be done." The noble nodded slowly, his protoform giving a faint ripple that would have translated to a much more obvious one if he'd been armored.

"Thank you, Mirage. Ratchet, could I have a moment of your time." Optimus turned and walked quietly away from Mirage, granting him as much privacy as was currently possible to process this loss. Ratchet was with him in a step, his field expressing just how serious this blow was going to be to Mirage.

::He's going to need more than a couple orns before he's ready for active duty again.:: Ratchet warned him on ultra short range comm so even Mirage couldn't pick it up.

::I expect that Mirage is going to need that time to grieve. I asked him to take on this roll so he would know that he still has a purpose with us.:: Optimus replied on the same comm. After a short pause, he continued with the other concern Mirage had mentioned. ::Prowl is not going to want to take time.::

::And you have much less hold on him than you do on Mirage,:: Ratchet agreed grimly. ::I'm not sure we can make him remain.::

::We must find a way to keep him with us; there are too few of us left. Perhaps giving him focus on our future?:: Optimus pondered for a nanoklik. Would developing a framework for the future of the remaining Cybertronians be enough to keep Prowl from being lost to grief? It was difficult to tell. Prowl was pragmatic in the extreme, yet he'd always had something personal to work towards, whether it was vengeance or seeing Jazz again.

::Fortunately if he arrives before we have an answer I can drop him into stasis before he's told. With luck, Bluestreak will arrive first. Having his adoptive creation nearby might give Prowl something personal to focus on.:: Ratchet offered.

Prime agreed. ::I would prefer Prowl focused upon family to him focused upon seeking vengeance against all the former Decepticons.:: It was a possibility considering how Prowl had reacted to the destruction of Praxus. The last thing Optimus needed was Prowl's wrath rekindling the war. The mech was entirely capable of it, he was sure. With no hope of a future generation with the Allspark's destruction, there was little to truly curb the worst of anyone's depression-induced rage.

::I think we all would.:: Ratchet grunted.

::We can only hope for the best.:: Optimus sighed and walked out of Medbay, hoping the negotiations with the humans would lead to brighter options for the future of his people.

* * *

Bluestreak stood next to Ironhide, fairly vibrated with impatient joy. "He's here, 'Hide; Prowl's finally here!" He sputtered excitedly as the _Last Hope_ came to rest in the middle of the landing strip outside Diego Garcia

"They're all here, Bluestreak." Optimus gently corrected as he watched Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. The two frontliners were trying to act collected, but anyone familiar with them could see they were as eager as Bluestreak to be reunited with the rest of their cohort. The simple fact that all five had survived was a testament to their programming and construction as much as their will and luck. That Prowl was coming in a proper, fully functional ship with ten additional mecha was beyond a miracle. It brought their Terran population up to forty-three. It was a huge increase. It was also only on the orders of the Prime that the NEST humans and the rest of the Autobots weren't there.

It was no surprise to anyone that the first to appear was the sleek black form of Killblade flanked by his green and red brothers.

Ironhide grunted in approval at their condition and behavior when Sparkstinger and Shadowblade stepped out, scanning the surrounding landscape for any trouble. Recognizing the next mech out of the ship, he put a hand on Bluestreak's arm, reminding the excited mech to keep in place as Smokescreen emerged behind the three Blade Brothers. Next to him was the white form of Drift with his distinctive swords and armor. The giant frame of Ultra Magnus came next, with Perceptor and Wheeljack almost tripping over each other in their eagerness to see this new world. Hoist was only slightly less excited, but compared to the grim expressions of Prowl and Whiplash he looked positively giddy.

Once everyone had exited the ship, Ultra Magnus started forward towards Prime as the Blade Brothers and Drift fell into formation around him. Releasing Bluestreak, Ironhide stepped back into his preferred spot just behind Prime. Ratchet stood next to him, a firm optic on Prowl. He saw the moment Prowl realized Jazz was not among the greeting party and could teek that Optimus saw it as well.

"Greetings, Ultra Magnus," Optimus spoke first and offered his arm in a warrior's greeting to his general.

"Greetings, Optimus Prime," Ultra Magnus responded and grasped his arm in a greeting that was spark felt. "Jazz?" his voice dropped to nearly inaudible.

"Gone," Optimus whispered back.

Ultra Magnus grimaced, unable to completely mask the pain of yet another loss to their ranks, especially an officer of Jazz's caliber. Straightening he spoke up, "The crew of the _Last Hope_ reports, Prime. We are yours to command."

"First you are _mine_." Ratchet growled. "And I'll start with the one not moving right," he pinned Prowl down with a look. The Praxian simply flicked his small wings in acceptance. "Who else needs attention first?"

Hoist spoke up to answer his commander. "Sparkstinger, Drift and Perceptor could use some of your time, boss, but Wheeljack should probably be next after Prowl."

"That goes without saying." Ratchet grumbled, glaring at the mech waving happily at him. "Can everyone drive? Good. Transform and follow me," he ordered, expecting compliance as he transformed and lead the small army towards the base proper.

"As the medic commands." Prime and Ultra Magnus shared a brief smile before transforming and joining the convoy. With only a quick glance at Prime, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker teeked happiness as they slipped into formation with their cohort.

* * *

Optimus silently listened to Ratchet grumble as Prowl finished the last stages of boot-up. Whiplash stood beside him, stoic in his own grief at the loss of his commander. Confirming Jazz's death for the other arrivals had been difficult; this was going to be much more painful. Hopefully the three of them could find a way to keep Prowl from following Jazz. There were too few of them left to allow grief to take another. That they honestly still needed Prowl was secondary in Optimus' processors.

They could all teek it when Prowl was fully aware, but optics didn't light up.

Ratchet reached over and thumped Prowl's hip. "Don't make me make you wake up."

"Prowl." Optimus spoke up before Ratchet could continue ranting. "We need to speak with you."

A low x-vent preceded rich yellow optics lighting. "Yes, Prime."

"Prowl," Optimus vented heavily. "Jazz chose to risk everything on the chance that Megatron could be defeated. Yes, Jazz lost his life, but the threat Megatron posed has been ended. Permanently."

"I understand," Prowl responded in full tactician mode. With his emotional protocols suppressed, there was no way to tell how hard he was taking the news. "What will my duties be now?"

"We are currently working with the humans to contain and neutralize the arriving Decepticons who are choosing to continue to fight. I need to you work with Whiplash and Mirage to determine the status of the various Decepticon leaders and splintering factions." After a pause, Optimus continued, wanting Prowl to understand that he truly was needed for more than just war. "Additionally, I am currently in negotiations with the human's governments to establish a new home for our people; ideally here on Earth but on another close planet in this solar system if this proves unacceptable. Your assistance will be needed finalizing the negotiated treaty and determining the allocation of available resources to all projects."

"It will be done, Prime." Prowl promised evenly.

"Will you turn those damn protocols on and _deal_ with what you're being told!" Ratchet snarled.

"Only if you wish me to walk myself to the salvage room," Prowl told him.

Optimus repressed a shudder at the thought. This was going a little better they had expected, but only because Prowl hadn't actually done what he had just threatened. "Prowl, Bluestreak is eager to speak with you again."

"If there is time, I will," Prowl put full control of it in his commander's hands. Something that while completely in character for him was also disturbingly normal given what Prowl had just been told.

"Make certain you carve out the time, or I'll make it an order." Ratchet growled. "Bluestreak looks up to you, and it helps him when he spends time with you."

"I will make time then," Prowl agreed calmly.

::I'll make sure someone keeps an optic on him and close enough to stop him when he finally turns his emotions back on,:: Whiplash commed both Prime and Ratchet as he slipped away. ::He's safe until then.::

"Prowl, we have prepared an office for your use." Prime ignored Ratchet's glare. Prowl would do better settled in to a stable pattern of usefulness than trapped idle in Medbay.

The Praxian stood smoothly to follow Prime. He'd needed a lot of work and even more energon, but at least he teeked as physically healthy now.


	2. Beginning to Grieve

Bluestreak hummed as he paused outside Prowl's door, energon clutched in his hands. ::Prowl, I know you probably haven't refueled recently, so I brought you your ration before Ratchet gets mad and drags you to Medbay.::

::Enter.:: Prowl's quiet command was mirrored by the opening door.

Bluestreak stepped into Prowl's office, looking around at the unfamiliar room. At initial perusal it seemed even more sterile than the office Prowl usually maintained. Bluestreak's doorwings dropped as he realized why. Jazz was always giving Prowl little things and Prowl often displayed those about his office. Mostly on a single shelf to his right where he could see them as he worked.

"Thank you, Bluestreak," Prowl looked at the dark gray Praxian and the energon cube in his hands.

"You don't need to thank me, Prowl...sir." Bluestreak sputtered a bit as he fumbled the cube onto the desk. It was hard to reconcile this formal, aloof figure with the quiet, dependable mech he'd relied on for so long. "You're doing so much for us; it's the least I could do."

"It is still not your duty. You are to be thanked for that," Prowl stated. "My emotional protocols are off. Dealing with Jazz's deactivation and what needs to happen would be too much."

"Oh, that make sense." Bluestreak silently scolded himself for not realizing what was happening. "Uhm ... I know it doesn't mean much right now, but thank you for being here for us. Knowing your still in charge really helps everything seem more normal. Speaking of normal, did you know Smokescreen learned how to play poker?"

"Assuming it is a game for gambling, I am not surprised," Prowl answered. Even without emotions, he knew he was far more tolerant of Bluestreak's presence and talk than he would be most mecha. The younger Praxian belonged to a small group that had their own set of social protocols that were still very much on line and functional.

"Yeah, the human soldiers won't play poker online with him though, so one of them shuffles and holds the cards for him during the game." Bluestreak smiled at Prowl. "Epps says they recognize a fellow card shark. I thought sharks were fish. You'd be good at poker; there's a lot of probability and statistics involved. Maybe we could get a set of Cybertronian size cards made?"

"If Smokescreen likes the game, I am sure they will appear soon," Prowl told him, then paused to look up from his work. "I will not be suitable for socializing without functional emotional protocols. It must wait until then."

"I understand." Bluestreak wilted a little and hesitantly asked. "Do you mind me dropping by with more energon sometimes?"

"I do not mind," Prowl made a strange attempt at a smile. "You are one of those with special status protocols. I may not be good company, but you are welcome here."

"I'll be back as often as I can. I promise." Meeting the attempt with a genuine smile, Bluestreak impulsively reached forward, doorwings swept up and he trilled lightly when Prowl didn't pull away from the touch. "I'm really glad your still here; we...I really do need you," he said earnestly, refusing to be disturbed by the emotionless state of Prowl's field.

"Thank you, Bluestreak," Prowl responded as best he was able, relying on rote responses more than actual thought. "I will try to remember that when it matters."

Bluestreak kept hold of Prowl for almost a full klik before reluctantly breaking contact. "I have monitor duty. I'll be back with your next ration. That'll keep Ratchet off your back."

"I will see you then," Prowl said before Bluestreak left and Prowl once more focused fully on his work.

* * *

It was nearly two orns later when Prowl's systems finally demanded he recharge strongly enough that Prowl believed it was possible. Even without emotional protocols on, he still _felt_ in his spark. Those feelings just weren't processed consciously as existing. Reluctantly he shut down his station and stood and resettled his armor before walking into the hall and towards the quarters he still hadn't been in.

Mirage stepped out of the far corner of the room and silently followed the Praxian down the hall. Whiplash's orders were for him to follow the tactician everywhere and prevent him from doing any harm to himself or others. Having watched Prowl work himself into exhaustion, Mirage reluctantly admitted that the tactician needed something besides Bluestreak to give him a reason to continue. The war would have likely worked, at least for a while, but the war was over. For a tactician of Prowl's caliber he only had busy work now, just like it was for a spy of Mirage's caliber.

Stopping in front of his quarters, Prowl spoke without turning. "If you are going to monitor my recharge I suggest you enter now."

Without a sound Mirage complied, noted Prowl's slightly longer pause and then the Praxian stepped inside and the door slid closed. "How did you know?"

"Calculated odds and knowing my Prime," Prowl answered softly. "I know someone will be watching me until after I have completed grieving."

"I will do my best not to disturb your work." Mirage looked around the barren room. "Do you require anything at this time?"

There was a lingering pause. "Require, no." Prowl decided as he lay down on the berth with deep, human-made padded. "Thank you for the offer."

* * *

Prowl was in the command center instead of his office this orn. He was out of work until Prime invented something new for him to plan out or the human month -- barely two and a half orns -- was up and he needed to review supply shipments. It was a little odd to work under such a fast rotation cycle, but he'd adapted to far worse. As it stood, adapting to how _short_ human work cycles were was far more difficult. They remained for barely over a joor and took several breaks in that time. Over a single Cybertronian duty shift the humans would have sixty-three duty shifts, split into rotations of three a local day-night cycle rather than the two that Cybertron had. He'd found the rhythm before his first stay in the command hub was over however, and found it almost soothing after his third.

As strange as it was, he was finding he actually enjoyed working with the military humans. Something that definitely could not be said of their political types. Some of the Autobots, primarily Prime and Ultra Magnus, were able to interact with the political humans with minimal difficulty. Others, most notably Ironhide, were best kept well away from any human unwilling to carry a weapon. Some, like the Blade Brothers and Mirage, were best kept well away from humans in general.

Unfortunately, Sideswipe had decided to volunteer Sunstreaker as an escort during the last the political visits. He had also neglected to inform any of the officers before adjusting the schedule. It was, to no surprise, a disaster that they were still trying to smooth over. Thus the pair's current assignment patrolling for Decepticons in the Sahara. Let Sideswipe deal with his brother's temper in all that sand.

::I would like to bring them back,:: Optimus mused. :: Everyone deserves a chance to repent and start anew.::

::They've barely been out there an orn. His pain should last longer than ours,:: Prowl replied firmly.

::There's nothing in this Primus-forsaken pit of a territory other than paint-wrecking sand!:: Sunstreaker ranted, completely ignoring comm protocol. ::This heat is baking my paint, and this is your fault.:: He snarled as Sideswipe kicked up another cloud of sand.

::Stop whining. We have thousands of miles to drive as fast as we want out here.:: Sideswipe snickered in reply.

::You're coating me with sand, you glitch! It's destroying my finish.:: Sunstreaker growled and charged Sideswipe.

::Both of you. No fighting or damaging fellow Autobots!:: Prowl snapped at them.

::There're no Decepticons out here in this wasteland. You just sent me out here to see my finish trashed.:: Sunstreaker snarled as he shot ahead of Sideswipe, trying to get out of his sand cloud.

::Actually I sent you out there to punish Sideswipe for putting you on the human-management detail,:: Prowl informed them, causing a few snickers. ::When you are angry enough with him he leaves you out of the mischief for a while.::

Sunstreaker just grunted as he fishtailed on the bend between two large dunes, still trying to stay ahead of Sideswipe. Just as he reached the sharpest point in the turn, a series of explosions within both dunes sent masses of sand raining down on him.

::Report!:: Prowl barked at them as activity all around the command center picked up.

::Arrgh!:: Sunstreaker crashed headlong, burying himself partway into the far dune.

::Who the pit puts explosives in a sand dune?:: Sideswipe yelled skidding to a halt near his brother. He transformed, looking around for any trouble with both blades extended and his armor ready for battle to protect Sunstreaker as the golden mech pulled himself out of the dune and onto wheeled pedes.

::Watch out.:: Prowl warned as a white Pontiac G6 shot towards Sideswipe, cackling loudly as it hit ramming speed. At the same time, a black Lotus Evora barreled towards Sunstreaker. ::Insane Decepticons, SpecOps, I would.:: He added in response to the question.

Just before hitting Sideswipe the white Pontiac G6 transformed almost instantly. Sliding past Sideswipe, the mech pulled a gun and fired at Sunstreaker.

::Sunstreaker freeze!:: Prowl ordered, his tone alerting every mech and a couple of the humans that this was _bad_. ::Friction gun. Battlechargers.::

::Sideswipe! Run!:: Sunstreaker yelled as the black Evora barreled towards him. Swiftly transforming, the cackling mech aimed a beam rifle at him.

::Pit no.:: Sideswipe snarled back as he leapt over the Pontiac G6 and slashed it deeply with one blade in a move designed to make it difficult to hit him without hitting the white one.

"Cheater!" The white mech yelled as the blade pierced him. "Get them!" Another dune exploded, sending more sand cascading down on them. Sunstreaker began glowing faintly as the sand fell across his frame and Sideswipe cursed fluently as he saw what Prowl wouldn't for another moment. Three drones made it five to one and on shifting, unstable ground where most of Sideswipe's best advantages weren't available.

"Five to one, fun." Sideswipe grinned and let himself go. He knew as well as anyone that the berserker coding was his only real hope right now to last long enough for Sunstreaker to reenter the fray. He drove both blades into the white mech, twisting them to nearly sever his arm. Runamuck snarled and cursed but fell back to allow his brother and the Vehicons to tackle the silver Blade Brother.

As Runamuck fell back, the Vehicons charged in transforming in clouds of sand and scattering as they reached Sideswipe, trying to flank the berserking mech that was a spinning, twisting, ducking whirl of silver death. Sunstreaker, unable to assist his twin, worked to control his rage. He focused his attention on the two Battlechargers, trying to keep track of them in the haze of sand and movement.

::Prowl. How long am I stuck like this?:: Sunstreaker asked plaintively.

::Four point eight three eight seven one kliks,:: Prowl responded smoothly, his attention focused on the battle and trying to help Sideswipe without distracting him.

Sideswipe slashed through one of the Vehicons, crippling it and knocking it back away from the fight. Runamuck shifted his gun to his working hand, and, taking aim, he shot the badly damaged Vehicons. "Charge him." he ordered. Obeying, the Vehicon limped towards the Autobot, shimmering with increased light with every step.

::Stay clear for forty nanokliks.:: Prowl ordered.

Sideswipe spun and flipped forward, slicing his blade through a Vehicon as he passed. Runabout fired his plasma rifle but hit the injured Vehicon as it was shoved in front of the blast. Staggering back, the now crippled Vehicon collided with the glowing Vehicon.

Sunstreaker quickly offlined his optics and braced himself not to twitch as the explosion took them both out and sent another shower of sand, but it was the shockwave that nearly ended the Blade Brother.

::130. 129. 128.::: Prowl's voice began a countdown over Sunstreaker's comm while Sideswipe went back to work.

"Your next, Autoscum!" Runabout yelled as he fired at Sideswipe, striking his right shoulder in a shower of sparks. Sideswipe turned and charged him, cutting down the remaining Vehicon as he passed.

Sunstreaker impatiently tracked Prowl's countdown, the berserk haze rising as the countdown continued. Then on the edge of his vision, Runamuck stood and took aim at Sideswipe as he closed in on Runabout.

::Three. Two. One.:: Prowl's voice hadn't finished the last glyph and Sunstreaker was in motion. He could take the small charge from that last fraction of a nanoklik, especially since it meant saving his brother. With a silent snarl he crashed into Runamuck bodily, tacking the white mech down and sending the shot wild.

Heat spread like a wave across his frame, scorching armor and melting wiring. Bare hands met metal armor as Sunstreaker started tearing Runamuck apart. The white mech thrashed and twisted, trying to aim his gun. It wasn't any use. He'd never been a match for a Blade Brother alone. One on one was not what the Battlechargers were good at.

::Prime wishes them alive.:: Prowl dutifully relayed to the pair, though all involved on his side of the view were aware that it was past the stage were such orders were an option. Ratchet and Jolt were already in the air, though Sparkstinger was likely to reach them first given he was in southern Europe and had no respect for speed limits or roads when it meant getting to his cohort faster.

The screech of metal being torn from a frame was the only answer Prowl received; the brothers were tearing the Battlechargers apart. Prowl's observations of the desert fight confirmed Whiplash's intel; the Battlechargers had never been salvageable.

* * *

Bluestreak walked into Prowl's office, energon in his hand. Most of the Autobots and human soldiers had been on edge since the Battlecharger Incident; it was a reminder that, although the war was over, the fighting still continued. From what he'd overheard from some of the soldiers the political humans seemed to have become more agitated, and, as a result, Prime had shifted more of the base management to the tactician as he focused upon their diplomatic agreements. This meant Prowl was spending even more time locked in his office. Despite that, the work seemed to be good for Prowl. Bluestreak knew it was because it helped Prowl not think about what hurt.

The door opened for him as always and he walked in. Prowl seemed more stressed than usual, far too stressed for just his duties to be the cause. Prowl managed an entire war for so long. A base with only forty-four mech and a couple hundred humans was nothing.

"Here you go, just what you need to keep Ratchet away. At least that's what the humans say." Bluestreak walked over and set the cube down next to Prowl. Hesitating, he finally quietly asked, "Everything okay, Prowl?"

"Emotional protocols are beginning to turn on," Prowl answered honestly. "Thank you," he added as he picked up the cube and sipped it.

"Oh, that's a good thing, right?" Bluestreak watched Prowl carefully as he drank. That explained the stress; Prowl and emotions didn't always work well together.

"Ratchet would say so. I disagree. As usual, however, I've been overridden," Prowl sighed and stared at his cube, careful to avoid looking at the mech that many, including himself, considered his creation of sorts. "Do you still prefer to recharge with company?"

"Yes, I do. It helps me keep the memory fluxes at bay." Bluestreak's optics brightened, remembering many vorns where some of the only comfort he'd found was with this mech. "Would you be willing to recharge with me again?"

"It would help me, if you can deal with my field," Prowl finally looked at him. "It is going to be very bad, Bluestreak. As bad as when I was processing Praxus, only you'll be right there, against it. I can ask Prime. He'll do it and he can deal with it."

Bluestreak lifted his doorwings and straightened his shoulders. "You've always helped me when I was having troubles. It's only right that I help you as best I can. If being next to me helps, then that is what we're going to do."

"Thank you, Bluestreak," Prowl's harmonics and field were rich with just how much it meant to him. "I'll ensure our schedules align."

"I'll be glad to help, Prowl. It'll be good for me too." Bluestreak reached over and gripped his arm before heading out of the room.

* * *

Staring helplessly at the decapitated mech, Bluestreak watched energon drip out the frame. One arm of the graying frame stretched towards him. Mutely, he stared at the broken doorwings. Coming online with a muffled cry, Blestreak shivered his way out of the haze of recharge. Waves of despair and pain flooding through his systems and spark.

Strong, warm, _living_ arms grabbed him and pulled him close inside a field that had long been listed as _safe_. That field was hurting too, but it was living and there. Clinging to Prowl desperately, Bluestreak slowly felt the feedback loop between them start to ebb. He cursed internally, bitter that at this moment he couldn't be as much help for Prowl as he wanted to be. He should be stronger and able to overcome old memories.

"I miss being personally useful," Prowl whispered to him. "This helps me too, in its way."

"I'll always need and want you; you're family. We can work to be strong again together." Bluestreak gripped Prowl's arms, sending love back to the mech who had so long ago become family. 

Prowl could only nod and hold on, taking in the strength and providing it at the same time. "Try and recharge again," he murmured. "You need it."

"Only if you do too." Bluestreak countered. "You've been missing more recharge than I have."

"I intend to," Prowl promised honestly. "It is joors yet before I get up."

"Okay." Bluestreak calmed his field and allowed his systems to settle. Relaxing, he waited quietly for Prowl to settle into recharge. This time, he was going to be the one playing sentry. He was grateful when Prowl did shut down without further debate, the elder mech sinking into the peaceful oblivion of a deep defrag cycle. A breem later Bluestreak allowed himself to settle into a light recharge. He'd have some rest, but he'd be right there when Prowl needed him.

It didn't take as long as Bluestreak hoped for. Less than a groon later Prowl's field flared with anger, rich and violent in a way that Bluestreak hadn't teeked in him before. Mindful of Prowl's fighting skills, Bluestreak carefully sent gentle pulses of love and reassurance while making certain not to physically move, hoping to sooth Prowl without startling him into consciousness.

He relaxed slightly when Prowl seemed to calm, only to lock every servo and relay in his frame when Prowl keened and jerked sharply, a sound that tore right into Bluestreak with its pain. Remembering what had helped him in the past, Bluestreak barely whispered an old Praxian refrain, a gentle lullaby, allowing the sound to slowly enter Prowl's subconscious awareness.

Static cries and hiccupping intakes slowly subsided and Prowl settled into recharge once more. His field was still full of emotional pain, but it was level rather than spiking. Bluestreak allowed more affection to slip into his field and settled back into light recharge.

Three more bouts interrupted his recharge, and Bluestreak could not have been gladder for it. He knew exactly what Prowl's recharge would have been like if he hadn't been there. Prowl had held and soothed him through so many nights of old trauma and new during the war, it felt wonderful to finally return some of that support. This time when Prowl began to rouse it was more natural, the boot sequence of one intending to wake up.

Bluestreak grinned and hugged Prowl as he finished booting. "Did you have a good recharge? Would you like some energon now?"

"Better than I've had on this world yet," Prowl thanked him by stroking his back lightly. "Yes, we can get energon."

Bounding to his feet, Bluestreak tugged on Prowl's arm lightly, trying to get the mech moving before he changed his mind. "That would be great." Prowl volunteering to spend more time outside his office was a definite sign of improvement.

Prowl almost chuckled as he allowed himself to be led, all but dragged, out of his quarters and through the halls. He saw and teeked the amusement of those who passed. All assumed he was simply indulging his excitable creation, and while that wasn't incorrect, it wasn't the full truth either. Prowl wanted the company badly. He wasn't nearly as solitary as most believed. He was still an Enforcer by spark and core coding. He was designed to work in a unit.

Entering the rec room, Bluestreak motioned Prowl to a seat and headed over to get them some energon. Waving cheerfully at Wheeljack who was seated at another table, Bluestreak deliberately did not look at the object in the engineer's hands. As long as it didn't spark or smoke he wasn't too worried about it right now. Fuel in hands, he headed back to Prowl, passing Mirage just as he entered the room for his morning fuel. A few kliks later Whiplash and Bumblebee entered, talking quietly, and joined Mirage after they got their energon.

"I'm so glad you recharge better." Bluestreak babbled happily at he sat down across from Prowl and offered the cube.

"Thank you for being there," Prowl replied softly as he fingered the cube before taking a sip. "I do recharge better with company I trust."

"I know what you mean; I feel much safer having someone around when I'm feeling vulnerable. You've made things so much better for me over the vorns." Bluestreak took a drink and then continued. "So, what's on the agenda today?"

"My usual, and yours," Prowl managed a tiny smile. "Though if you wish, I believe I can make some time to be on the rifle range in twenty joors."

Bluestreak's face lit up with excitement at the offer. "That'd be great; it's been vorns since we practiced together. This will be so much fun. Have you been there recently?"

"I have not been to this range," Prowl told him between sips of energon.

"It's a good set up considering the tech here on Earth. There are different sizes and styles of targets. Ironhide and I keep coming up with new things for Wheeljack and Perceptor to put together to keep things interesting." Bluestreak took a quick drink. "The humans use it sometimes when Ironhide or I are there. It seems to help them get comfortable with us being so much bigger and firing above their heads. They've got a few decent marksmen trying to reach our scores."

"How close are they getting?" Prowl was abruptly very interested.

"Pretty good considering they've been training for less than a quarter of a vorn. There's a trio of the human snipers who've been watching me closely, and they just asked if they could schedule some training time with me." Bluestreak beamed, proud of being recognized as a potential instructor. He sent the names to Prowl.

"Good," Prowl didn't hide the small flick of pride in his sensor wings. "I'm sure you'll do well. You are the best we have."

Bluestreak's wings arched upward at the praise. "Thank you. Do you think the schedule could be adjusted to start the training exercise within the next couple joor? Maybe you could drop by and see if you spot any pointers they might need?"

Prowl paused and logged into the system to make the changes needed. "Done. You begin in seven groons."

"That's great." Bluestreak grinned and leaned forward, resting one hand lightly on Prowl's arm. "I hope everything goes smoothly for you today and we really do get to meet later."

"Agreed," Prowl said honestly as he finished his energon. "For now, however, it is time for me to work."


	3. Moving Forward

Wheeljack was all but bouncing in place, his helm fins glowing brightly and flashing with his glee. He looked around at the gathering and knew it was as close as any were going to get. Optimus would have moved closer, but Ironhide held him at a 'safe' distance. Prowl was his usual self, if a bit more dower than he used to be. Perceptor was standing at a distance as well, but closer to his side and gearing up for full engineering lecture mode.

"So, Perceptor and I have been studying this solar system's resources to see how they will suit our needs." Bouncing slightly, he waved his hand towards the machine. "We've already got solar collectors operating, but there's an amazing amount of energy just being ignored by the humans. Since we're already on an island, I've been working on a tidal generator. It's currently a bit slower than the solar or geothermic processes, but this uses a form of energy the humans barely tap. Also, as long as there are oceans and a moon we won't run out of energy."

"Then for the next five hundred and forty eight thousand vorns," Prowl stated blandly.

"Long past any time frame we will be planning for," Optimus gave his SIC an amused look.

"In detail at least," Prowl acknowledged.

"Exactly! This is a test version for very small-scale production; we can make a bigger one of course. That will need to be further out in the currents." Wheeljack turned to the machine resting in the small inlet on the beach. "Now, I just need to adjust its position a bit for optimum performance."

"Proceed," Optimus nodded, watching in facilitation as the device hummed to life. That his bodyguard and SIC both tensed, ready for it to explode was of less concern. They needed this to work.

There was a sputtering sound and then silence. Wheeljack reached down and smacked the machine. It hummed back to life.

"That's never good," Ironhide tensed more, ready to pull his Prime out of the way and shield him. It hardly mattered that Prime's armor was as good as his and nearly as heavy.

"Actually that is only indicative of non-catastrophic failure 16% of the time and catastrophic failure 38% percent of the time," Prowl told him.

"Very funny." Wheeljack glared good-naturedly at them. "It had an air bubble in it." He looked down fondly at the machine humming away.

"How much energon can it produce?" Optimus distracted all sides with a focus on good news.

Wheeljack deflated a bit, helm fins dimming. "Two little ones like this in this bay could sustain one of us, except Optimus or Ultra Magnus would need three." He perked up as he continued. "Thirty of the big ones I've designed could be set up to maintain our current numbers comfortably."

"So combined with the existing solar and geothermal systems, we would need twelve large generators," Prowl ran the calculations on the fly. "Have there been any studies on the affects the generators would have on the ecosystem? There are at least a dozen species of sentient life in this area."

"Perceptor's been working on that side of things." Wheeljack grinned, helm fins flickering rapidly. "I've got a few ideas for some filters and shielding to keep nonsentient lifeforms and debris from getting sucked into the systems. We can also put them in the humans' navigational charts so they don't get struck by transportation vessels."

"All important things," Optimus rumbled encouragement. "If this one is successful and we find it does not harm the locals, we can discuss larger ones."

Wheeljack grinned and turned to Ironhide. "See, not everything I do blows up."

* * *

A simple message requesting a few kliks of his time interrupted Optimus's concentration. Turning his attention away from the latest round of negotiations, he shifted his focus to the mech waiting outside his office. "Enter, Prowl."

"Am I interrupting, sir?" Prowl asked carefully once the door slid closed.

"Only another unending round of negotiations Ultra Magnus can attend to by himself for an orn or so." Optimus waved Prowl over. "For such a short-lived species the humans seem to have perfected the art of continuous diplomacy."

"It's critical when power is handed over somewhere on this world every metacycle for them to constantly communicate," Prowl pointed out smoothly, only to have a shiver of his armor give away just how close he was to cracking. "Why must I continue?"

Optimus had been dreading this moment for some time. "I know this is difficult for you, and I know you are tired of continuing in the face of loss, but we...I need you, Prowl. I need your assistance creating a new home for what remains of our people. You and I both know Cybertron is no more and cannot be renewed. I need your help to give the survivors hope and to help create a legacy for our people."

Golden optics dimmed slightly as the grief swelled. "What legacy do you intend?"

"I'm hoping to help the humans develop _safely_ at their own pace into a space-going race who will learn from our successes and failures. I want to gather all of our knowledge and history together so that others will remember us." Optimus looked directly into his tactician's optics. "I want our people to once again feel useful and productive off the battlefield."

"To feel useful without a future." Prowl's tone dropped with the painful reminder that they were the last of their kind and without the hope that a future brought. "That must be your duty as our leader. I can work on the library. The humans will destroy themselves just as we have. They are even more violent than our kind and far less unified. I can not advise linking our legacy to them. The odds they will carry it forward is negligible."

"If that is to be their fate then we will add their legacy to ours so that others can learn their lessons as well." Optimus shifted on his chair, pain from their loss gripping him. "We brought our war to them and that makes them partially our responsibility. The knowledge that there is more than just their species in the universe may lead them to great change."

"As you say," Prowl let out a soft sigh from his vents. "You are a cruel mech to ask me to continue with nothing to look forward to."

Optimus winced, the observation cutting him deeply. "Prowl, you still have friends and family who want you and are here for you. Bluestreak needs you and losing you would devastate him. Although they might pretend otherwise, you are aware that the Blade Brothers need you to act as their authority figure and keep them functioning stably."

"Yes, just as losing Jazz devastated me," Prowl got to the core of the matter. "They have no more a future than I do. Ending it early would be a mercy."

"You would end Bluestreak's life?" Optimus stared at Prowl, trying to reach the mech before he slipped away completely.

"No, I would end my own and allow others to choose their fate. Some will continue to the end of their ability to be repaired. Some will take the opening my loss would provide. It is not my concern which they choose. We all go to the same place in the end, and I do not desire to be parted from Jazz any longer than I must be."

Optimus sat silently for a moment, staring at the wounded mech in front of him. "It is true you have lost a great deal in your existence, Prowl. If possible I would like knowing if this is your recent grief speaking or something your spark truly believes."

"You would merge with me, just to be able to insist that I am only grieving and it will pass," Prowl sighed before anger flared briefly. "What happened to freedom is the right of all sentient beings?"

Optimus repressed a sigh, knowing he had spoken in haste and was now dealing with the consequences. "Freedom has consequences and responsibilities. I need to know if this is what your spark needs or if it is a desire to end a pain that will fade." Here Optimus looked straight at Prowl daring him to challenge his next words. "I still miss Elita even after all this time, but I choose to live on to honor the memory of those lost to me. If you cannot do so, I will need you to work to plan out the future of our race before you pass."

"Very well," Prowl actually grumbled. "Here or your quarters?"

"My quarters mean less potential for disturbance from others." Optimus rose and walked towards the door, noting both of them unavailable for the next five joors on the rosters. He sent a ping to Ultra Magnus to alert him to the change. 

Prowl followed without any outward hint at how irritated he was, or that this was anything unusual. It was only when the door to the Prime's quarter's closed that he let go of his tight control and the flare of anger-frustration-grief crashed into Optimus hard.

Accepting the swirl of emotions as his due, Optimus embraced Prowl's pain within echoing back his acceptance of Prowl's rage and hints of his own grief at the loss of the mech he called friend and comrade but was so much more to Prowl. "Were you going to bond?"

"Yes," Prowl's emotions deepened sharply, both the intense love and intense grief.

"Loving someone that much is a great blessing; losing them is a terrible blow." Optimus paused briefly, shelving memories of his own love away and focusing upon the mech before him. This time was for Prowl. "Will you share your love and your pain with me?"

"As if I have a choice," Prowl rumbled with a shrug of armor and bitterness rising to the fore as he motioned to the berth.

Ignoring Prowl's rudeness as he settled on the berth, Optimus calmly unlocked his chestplates as he relaxed his armor and waited for Prowl to join him. It didn't take the Praxian long. As always, once Prowl was set on a path, he would follow through regardless of the personal cost. It didn't protect the mech facing him so intimately from the intensity of the fallout as Prowl straddled Prime's torso and opened his chest armor.

Optimus's resolve almost crumpled as Prowl's raw emotions buffeted him on the physical contact. Prowl's rage that the Decepticons had take one more precious thing from him tossed with the crippling grief of a spark crying for its desired mate. Guilt that he hadn't been there to save Jazz; anger that the mech had sacrificed himself. Brewing hatred over Optimus keeping him here when there was no future for their race.

Even with all that, their armor finished parting and Prowl leaned down to touch their sparks. It immediately became so many times worse for Optimus. Here, between their sparks, Optimus could not deny Prowl's accusation that he was a hypocrite, demanding his mecha treat others with a respect that he didn't grant them. The loss of Jazz wasn't even on the horizon yet. Here Prowl had little ability to hold back and no desire to try.

Yet in the torrent of events and anger, Optimus gradually realized that while Prowl might well hold his failings against him when it meant unequal treatment, his actual mistakes, the things that Optimus held himself accountable for, were not among the wrongs Prowl railed at him about without words. Accepting the charge of hypocrisy, Optimus wordlessly promised to work to correct his past policies and adjust his current behaviors. He also silently asked Prowl if he would be willing to consider helping to monitor his behavior to prevent relapses.

There was consent, wary and untrusting but there. Also there was a pointed sensation of the limited time it would be done.

Prowl, orders or not, still had no intention or desire to remain.

The merged deepened and Optimus felt how weary Prowl was, that this desire to extinguish had been there a very, very long time. He probed it deeper and realized that Jazz had delayed desires there from the moment Praxus had been leveled and her metrotitan extinguished. Now with Jazz gone those desires were rising again, sped and strengthened by yet another loss that Prowl couldn't see past.

Sorrowful, Optimus's guilt over Praxus's destruction flared briefly before he pushed it aside. Enfolding the drained mech, Optimus offered Prowl a place to rest and draw some comfort for a while. He was deeply grateful at how readily it was accepted. As the spark merging with his surrendered completely to drift in the loving strength around it, Optimus felt and knew that it could continue for a long time. It was strong and steady. What it needed was to grieve. Praxus had never been grieved for. His kin and comrades had never been grieved for. Jazz was just one more on a long list of losses that Prowl had never really processed because of the culture he'd been created into.

As Prowl's spark drifted, safe and unburdened for the moment, Optimus finally understood where Prowl was coming from. While Optimus had learned to grieve loss, accept it as the price of life and love and continue on thankful for how love had enriched his existence, Prowl had been trained to accept loss as inevitable, but that functioning was too short to waste on grief or love as both got in the way of duty. In Prowl's caste life _was_ short, often brutal and always intensely structured. Prowl had come on line and within a metacycle understood that extinguishing and returning to Primus was a reward.

This was one of the differences between the castes that made Optimus's position so challenging. Pondering how to teach Prowl to grieve, Optimus debated showing Prowl how he had dealt with the loss of Elita and moved on, but he was concerned it would be taken as pandering or worse by the angry Praxian. He'd helped many mecha grieve, but always before it was when they wanted the help. Even this deep in the merge he wasn't sure what the right answer for Prowl was. Yes, his spark was strong and remarkably unscarred by all he'd survived but it had no attachment to its frame. Prowl's processors were an utter mess and the only thing holding spark and frame together. They were what needed to be taught to grieve and move on, to understand that living was reason enough to continue.

Reluctantly, he decided to bench any decisions until he could tell how this had affected Prowl. Perhaps time spent in something other than a tortured recharge would improve the tactician's emotion balance. If nothing else, a solid defrag would improve his mental balance.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need me here?" Bluestreak twitched unhappily at his orders. "I know you are doing so much better now but you don't seem to be all yourself and...."

"Bluestreak, I will be fine. You are only going to be gone for three orns. I've directed battles longer than that," Prowl said patiently.

"I know you can take care of yourself; I just worry sometimes." Bluestreak dipped his wings before perking back up. "Going on patrol with Drift should be interesting; it should be sort of like acting as back up for any of the Blade Brothers."

"He is much, _much_ calmer than any of them," Prowl said emphatically. "Now shoo, get ready to go. Drift tolerates tardiness as well as I do."

"So he's a mix of you and Sideswipe? This will be fun. See you later." Bluestreak grinned and darted out of Prowl's office before the elder mech could correct him.

"Did I just hear something about mixing Prowl and Sides?" Wheeljack asked as they passed.

"Nope, you're just hearing things. Too many explosions." Bluestreak called cheerfully.

"Hey, I haven't blown up anything this joor." Wheeljack groused cheerfully as he chuckled at the Praxian's back and continued on to Prowl's office.

* * *

"You know you don't need to have me watched every single klik," Prowl grumbled to no one apparent, only to have the sleek matte black minibot drop down from inside the ceiling.

"Of course not, just every nanoklik," he grinned unrepentantly.

Prowl looked up and glared at Whiplash. "Your people should have more important things to do than monitor me. I am not going to offline myself in my office."

"You might be surprised just how many work-centric mecha do," Whiplash shrugged and flopped onto a chair. "It's one of the top spots."

"It would leave too much of a mess for my replacement to clean up." Prowl paused his grumbling and stared at Whiplash for a few nanoklicks. Then, with a sigh he spoke up. "What else do you want? I've been cooperating with Prime on these matters."

"Just pretend I'm not here," Whiplash shrugged. "It's not like you do anything I'm not cleared to see."

"How would.... Never mind," Prowl muttered with a shake of his helm and proceeded to do just that until Whiplash stood some joors later.

"I'll see you around," Whiplash said cheerfully as he walked out.

"I'm sure you will," Prowl sighed and went back to work. It was busywork at best, but it kept his processors occupied.

As he finished his work, Prowl spoke again to the apparent emptiness of his office. "Will you be monitoring my recharge again, Mirage?"

"Of course," the disembodied voice responded.

Hesitating for a full klik, Prowl spoke quietly, mindful of the presumptive nature of his next few words. "There is no logic in your being uncomfortable during your duties."

There was silence for long enough for Prowl to decide that Mirage found it insulting enough not to respond. The silence held true all the way to his quarters and as he laid down.

"It will help you recharge?" Mirage's tone was reluctant.

"Yes, I have learned that the presence of another eases my distress in recharge." Prowl answered truthfully and then elaborated further. "Bluestreak is gone on patrol, and Optimus is busy at the United Nations. I apologize for my presumption, I will ask Smokescreen."

"That ... will not be necessary," Mirage stated as he shimmered into view and walked to the berth. "Where do you wish me to be?"

"Wherever would be most comfortable for you," Prowl expressed his gratitude in his field. "It is the field and physical contact that helps, not how we are arranged."

"Understood." Mirage pondered the berth momentarily before sitting by Prowl's pillow and resting his back against the wall. As Prowl shut down into much needed recharge, Mirage allowed the back of his hand to rest along Prowl's neck cabling. He pointedly didn't think about why or at the flicker of _better_ that the mostly unconscious mech's field emitted at the touch.

As Mirage sat quietly monitoring the tactician, he noticed Prowl was resting better than he usually did with Bluestreak beside him. Bluestreak's own occasional emotional loops jarred Prowl's field and destabilized the tactician's field. Prowl would be better off with an emotionally stable companion, but his options were currently limited. Even the most stable among those on Earth were shaking at times and all of those who might like the post were very busy.

Prime did the best of those Prowl had recharged with, but the Prime was often off base for orns at a time traveling the world to strengthen connections and alliances. The Blade Brothers, in whole or in part, would gladly form a mech pile of any kind with their special tactician-leader, but not one of them was stable by any definition of the term. Ratchet, Ironhide and so many others were much the same. Prowl didn't trust Whiplash enough, which meant that Mirage would need to speak with his commander about altering how they split the shifts. If his presence helped Prowl recharge better, then it was important that he take the shifts where most recharge happened.

Satisfied with his conclusions, Mirage relaxed against the wall, monitoring the tactician's field for any problems and carefully easing any building tension in his frame with a gentle stroke of his fingers.

* * *

Two gentle thumps, one near his right servo, interrupted Prowl's solitude on his office. Diverting his attention away from his work, he looked around, taking in the waiting energon, a datapad and the surprisingly visible form of his watcher.

"I noticed you have been neglecting your fuel levels and assumed you would tolerate company during your repast." Mirage spoke from the other side of the desk.

"Thank you, Mirage," Prowl said politely. "It seems I am far too accustomed to Bluestreak delivering it."

Nodding towards the new datapad resting within reach of his left servo, Mirage continued. "I also brought you some entertainment for when you're off duty. I managed to save a few music files and stories not commonly collected by our soldiers."

"Thank you, Mirage," Prowl's harmonics spoke of a deeply appreciated and very unexpected gift. "I will explore them tonight."

"At your leisure of course." The spy tipped his head slightly, acknowledging the thanks. He sat silently watching the Praxian as he took a drink and returned to work. "Is it prepared to your liking?" he asked, wondering at his desire to speak.

"Yes, it a nicely balanced," Prowl assured him and they fell silent again. Over the course of a full joor Prowl consumed the cube. He wasn't savoring it, not in the way Mirage thought of the glyph, yet there seemed to be a reason for it. 

The silence should have felt awkward yet Mirage felt strangely comfortable sitting visible across from one of his commanders watching him work. After the cube was finished Mirage impulsively asked, "Is there anything I can do to assist you?"

Prowl paused and regarded his reports briefly before considering Mirage. Then he picked up three datapads and offered them across the desk. "Assess their risk to reward levels and any recommendations you have for them."

Knowing the level of respect Prowl was showing with his offer, Mirage solemnly took the offering in hand. After skimming them quickly to get an impression of their contents, he settled down for a thorough analysis of each mission. The first was in regards to a proposed expedition to Jupiter's moons to determine if the Decepticons were lurking in that location and analyze the availability of resources. The basic mission was a good one. While they were not short of resources on Earth right now it would not be long before they would need to abandon this world to the humans. Having a base ready would make that much easier.

The next was an intel gathering mission to the so called Middle East, focused on destabilizing the aggressive factions of the region that were causing so much worldwide tension among humans. Also included in that was a study of how religion was in use on the ground to further warlords.

Mirage found most human religions to be discordant and perplexing illogical, but he had to admit it played a major roll in human social order. By learning how its influence perpetuated and spread, the Autobots could more accurately predict human social behavior. Defusing tensions in that region would allow them broader access to resources and strengthen their standing with many allies.

The last mission was an infiltration into the remnants of the Sector Seven base inside the Hoover Dam. The primary purpose would be confirming the assurances that it had been dismantled. That one was going to be so easy as to be barely worth the SpecOps effort, yet being built to human scale and if things were active he personally believed sending a couple of Blaster's symbiots would be the best option. They were human sized and the bond with their master would allow Blaster to know immediately if something went wrong.

Choosing to start with the third mission, Mirage settled in and began composing a formal analysis and action plan. A comfortable silence filled the office as the two mechs worked.

Mirage was almost startled when he teeked more than saw Prowl stand.

Stacking his work neatly on the side of the desk, he quickly rose to his pedes as the Praxian began moving. "Would you care to join me for some energon?" He found himself asking. He saw and teeked how surprised Prowl was and almost tried to take it back before Prowl inclined his helm.

"I believe I would like that," Prowl said softly.

Hiding his relief at the near misstep, Mirage offered a tiny bow and motioned towards the door. "After you, sir."

* * *

Watching the base warriors compete in a tournament was not Mirage's preferred form of entertainment, but it did satisfy the more aggressive behaviors he had developed during the war. His presence at this particular display was due to Prowl's presence as observer and moderator. Even though it was Whiplash's turn on observation duty this joor Mirage felt an urge to keep an optic on his charge. The Praxian's impassive expression during the fights seemed to have driven certain soldiers into some outlandish displays. Sparkstinger seemed determined to get a reaction out of him and the rest of his brothers weren't much calmer.

Through it all Prowl remained calm, focused and outwardly impassive. Mirage was sure he was becoming irritating by the time Sideswipe went up against Springer. Both of them were intent on showing off, though to different mecha. It was the silver one that he found himself focused on and the irritation rising from somewhere he couldn't name. Sideswipe's behavior was outlandish, and Mirage couldn't imagine why the silver mech thought he was impressing anyone with half a working processor. Springer wasn't much better but at least he wasn't aiming for someone so far out of his league. Hot Rod, to be honest, was below him for the most part. The flame colored mech was nothing but trouble and young. Maybe in time he'd be worth his keep, but for now all he seemed to do was give Prowl more work. 

Springer's half-veiled insults at Prowl were getting far too crude for Mirage's taste as he shifted closer to his charge, but he could see them working on the intended target. Hot Rod liked it. This close to Prowl Mirage could see in tiny armor twitches what he couldn't yet teek: Prowl was slowly growing upset with the comments and the showing off.

Diving under one of Sideswipe's blades, Springer managed to twist around and knock Sideswipe's leg out from under him. Pressing a blade to Sideswipe's neck, he preened at Hot Rod. "Point."

"Match." Prowl's flat voice cut through the chamber, both combatants freezing as Prowl stepped forward. "Springer, you have expressed the desire for a more challenging opponent. I accept your challenge. Sideswipe, step out."

Every gathered mech reacted with some level of shock. They all knew he had some combat skills. The mech was an Enforcer after all. No one thought of him as a warrior though. Much the same as they never thought of SpecOps mecha as warriors, Mirage mused as the shock wore off and Sideswipe stepped out of the ring with a huff. For Mirage there was nothing but watching Prowl settle into a combat stance and picking out what martial arts he'd been trained in by how he moved.

Springer did not look impressed as he postured for a bit before falling into his standard stance. As soon as Ironhide started the match he struck out obviously hoping to take Prowl out as quickly and flashily as possible. Only a handful of those watching weren't surprised that Prowl dodged it with blatant ease, but several more did make surprised sounds when the smaller mech caught Springer's forearm and threw him carelessly across the room.

Easily rolling to his feet, Springer faced his opponent obviously realizing he wasn't quite the easy mark he'd expected. He feinted a few times, testing the Praxian's responses.

"You can take him." Hot Rod catcalled.

Mirage scoffed at the immature display. Those two certainly deserved each other; no one else would want them. He scowled when he spied Sideswipe intently watching the sparring match. That mech was in no way worthy of Prowl. Perhaps in a million vorns he'd have matured enough to understand that showing off wasn't the way to Prowl's spark, much less his berth, but Prowl didn't need to wait.

Springer lunged forward and sweeping his blade high then chopping low. 

Several gasps crossed the audience when Prowl went from defensive to offensive against his larger, more deadly opponent by stepping inward to avoid the strike. It went against everything they thought they knew about their tactician and Mirage had to hide a smirk. Just because Prowl didn't display it often didn't mean that he didn't have aggression in him. Now in very tight quarters where Springer theoretically had the advantage, Prowl's greater speed and intense precision worked for him.

One strike and Springer's left leg went out from under him. Another and his right arm dangled useless, earning him a snarl from Ratchet.

"Match." Ironhide said unnecessarily, smirking at what was for him a completely unsurprising result. The ancient warrior did after all have full knowledge of both opponent's capabilities.

Mirage almost purred as he watched Prowl's smooth take-down. He was also pleased to see Hot Rod's shocked expression at Springer's quick defeat. Maybe the waste of energon would finally learn to respect his betters.

"That had to be cheating!" Hot Rod suddenly exclaimed, an action that made those around him shift away.

One simply did not accuse _Prowl_ of cheating. Not if one wished to see the next morning. Yet before either Prowl or anyone else could react, Sparkstinger and ShadowBlade grabbed him and hauled him towards the door.

"He'll live," Sideswipe promised sweetly as he skated forward to Prowl and all but draped himself over the heavier mech. "That was amazing."

Mirage growled to himself, struggling to contain his anger as he watched the shameless display. While he was pleased the Blade Brothers were taking care of the Hot Rod problem, he was not pleased with Sideswipe's behavior. Prowl's tensed sensory panels were a clear sign he did not appreciate the brazen warrior's sudden contact. Someone needed to teach Sideswipe to respect other mech's personal space.

"Yah it was, and Prowl's for better than you," Mirage heard himself say without having the thought first. He only realized that he spoke it when the entire room gave a collective gasp and stared at him.

"Are you challenging me?" Sideswipe looked at him like he was suffering a malfunction and Prowl wasn't much less startled.

Mirage straightened under their collective gaze. Lifting his head, he cast a haughty glare at the Blade Brother. "Yes."

It was enough to get Prowl out from under Sideswipe's arm and when he passed Mirage as they swapped places Prowl whispered. "Show him up, but try not to mangle him."

Mirage gave him a flickering field brush of thanks as they parted, pleased that the tactician would show such confidence in him. Projecting more confidence than he normally would have allowed in this scenario, he drew his saber and fell into a formal fighting stance facing the Blade Brother. It was time to put all the intelligence he had gathered on them to good use.

Sideswipe was lighting fast, as stable at seventy degrees -- nearly flat on his side -- as he was standing up. He was also arrogant, young and with no concept of no-kill tactics to speak of.

"Well come at me," Sideswipe demanded.

Mirage almost laughed at the overconfidence being shown, and he was half tempted to do it just to drive him into recklessness. It would never occur to this frontliner that those who lived in the shadows could be just as dangerous as he was.

Darting forward, he threw the expected attack at Sideswipe's left side, dancing quickly back out of range. Taunting the mech with quick strikes. "Am I too much for you?" he deliberately goaded Sideswipe into an attack.

Using the strike as a way to slide past his blades, accepting a glancing strike to get into position. Slipping behind to his target, he brought his smaller blade into play, drawing it and slicing into Sideswipe's leg to sever several cables. The silver mech snarled but didn't stop. Core coding and conditioning had him twisting to strike at the cause of pain before he was crippled.

Mirage dove to the ground to avoid the attack. Rolling away from his opponent, he slashed his blade along Sideswipe's wheels, damaging the mechanisms and slowing him even further. Pain would never stop the warrior. The lot of them were hardcoded to be enraged by damage, not cowed by it. That tenant held true here as Sideswipe's engine roared and he put more weight on his good pede.

He could hear Ratchet ranting about the damage, but all he could feel was exhilaration. When was the last time he'd displayed his skill before a crowd that weren't cadre?

It hardly mattered in the moment and all Mirage could think of was how good it felt to be the center of attention again. Sideswipe's battle blade came down hard, only just missing a critical hit but it did shave plating off Mirage's dagger-arm. Ignoring the increasing damage, he reached up with his wounded arm as he sprang to his feet. Slashing the dagger into Sideswipe's extended limb he used the bite of the blade as a lever to finish launching himself upright. The sword in his other hand sliced down into the warrior's shoulder. It was a slender, curved blade; not designed to go against truly heavy armor, but since Sideswipe was built for speed it bit in and sliced deep without getting stuck.

Mirage sprang away as his blades slipped lose. Twisting he landed in a crouch ready for the retaliatory attack. In what most present considered a suicidal move, he mocked the frontliner, goading him to continue the challenge. "Losing yer touch, mech? Or are you just outclassed?"

"Why you little..." Sideswipe sputtered in outrage that turned to blind rage when they heard Prowl's low trill directed at Mirage and calling him the victor in a very personal way. It was close to the sound he made when Jazz had laid someone out defending his honor.

It was Mirage's small smirk at the sound that drove Sideswipe completely around the bend. Even as Ratchet's bellow about crazy spies reached his audios, Mirage focused completely on his target. He knew Prowl didn't want him to kill Sideswipe, and, without thinking, he leaped up as the frontliner charged.

The next thing he was aware of was a huge black mass between him and his target, a massive black hand reaching to grab him, red and white pinning silver down and Prowl giving the distinctive whistle to _stop_ in Mirage's SpecOps dialect.

That whistle snapped Mirage out of the momentary haze. He allowed Ironhide to block his sword arm as he neatly sheathed the dagger. "I'm fine, Ironhide. You can focus your attention on him." He nodded towards Sideswipe.

The big mech regarded him warily for a moment longer, then nodded and helped Ratchet heft the badly damaged and violently cursing warrior to haul him to medbay.

"Most impressive, Mirage. It is good to see that you have not lost your skill," Prowl almost _purred_ , though he kept his voice low enough that only Mirage heard the harmonics. "I haven't seen some of those moves since the last time Jazz took him down."

Mirage allowed his pleasure at the compliment to brush Prowl's field. "Thank you, I learned a few tricks from him." With a slight motion towards the stunned crowd, he murmured. "I think we've taught them not to underestimate us." Speaking a little louder, he continued. "Would you care to join me for a drink?"

"Yes," Prowl's voice returned to normal, but his field was still surprisingly warm where it caressed Mirage's.


	4. Wanting to Touch

Mirage sat next to Prowl unsuccessfully trying to focus on his assignment when he was itching to play with the enticing doorwings. Even knowing Jazz had been attracted to the tactician, Prowl was proving to be far more than Mirage had presumed all these vorns. The tactician had proven to be a subtlety witty conversationalist, and their last private sparring session had proven challenging and stimulating in all the best ways. Prowl was something special, even if he was a caste commoner.

Why was he even thinking about him then? Surely he was not so desperate as to resort to desiring to share pleasure with a commoner, even one who had ... who had risen in rank enough to court a royal. A shiver passed through Mirage's frame as that tidbit lodged into his awareness for the first time. Prowl _was_ of a rank, even as a caste-sparked commoner, to mate to a royal. He was far above Mirage's former status now, no matter what he had once been. 

The realization that Commander Prowl was one of the few mechs besides Prime worthy of being his mate changed everything. Refocusing, he studied Prowl's frame anew, allowing lust to enter the equation. The doorwings were even more enticing as he pondered how to best pleasure the mech before him. Would he enjoy spiking Mirage while they were caressed? He focused on recalling Jazz's stories of doing so. Long, steady strokes along the flats. Careful fingers in the joints. Magnetic pulses that drew moans. Polishing until Prowl was a struttless puddle of mech in recharge. 

The thought of that sight made him purr. He couldn't wait to try it out and see just how far he could go driving Prowl wild with desire. How to suggest it though? That wasn't really Mirage's place. It was to the dominant mate that suggested activities. He knew from Jazz's stories and simply watching the courting that had taken centuries that Prowl was not going to be a typical dominant mate. Jazz was the assertive one. The one who'd pursued Prowl. If Mirage wanted Prowl, he'd have to do much the same.

It went against much of his coding to be the pursuer in this situation. However it was his mate's desire to be pursued, so he would please his chosen mate by doing so.

Reviewing the past couple of orns, Mirage realized he had already done so. His desire for Prowl had already been established by his sparring match with Sideswipe. Given how often the two were seen together in the rec room, Mirage knew many of the Autobots assumed they were already involved. Prowl wasn't seen in public like that with many. Jazz, Prime and Bluestreak were the only common ones. Mate, Prime and creation.

Now it was Mirage, Prime and Bluestreak. Mate-to-be, Prime and creation.

Creation.

He'd need to forge connections with Bluestreak, least the powerful voice in Prowl's life advised rejection. Well, the two of them had their sniper skills as a starting point as well as a desire to see Prowl happy again. He decided he should avoid mentioning how often he'd watched the two Praxians recharge or just how intimately aware he was of Bluestreak's recharge terrors. Everyone knew Bluestreak had them. Not nearly so many that had not bunked with him were aware of much more than that.

He'd need to preemptively offer the pair time alone to avoid appearing too clingy as well. Perhaps he should speak with Whiplash about allowing Bluestreak some of the shifts where the Praxian would be there anyway. After all, Bluestreak had more incentive than either of them to keep Prowl functional and improving. Prowl would appreciate the level of trust being shown to his charge.

With that in place, Mirage's thoughts drifted to just how he could further please Prowl. Being useful around the base was a way to attract the commander; being desirable in the berth was a better way to keep him. Maybe he should step up and offer to polish him before a meeting? It would certainly be worth a try. One could often tell when Jazz had left base for the way Prowl's finish gradually dimmed down to a standard officer's polish. The first think Jazz typically tended to after defragging, debriefing and medical, was his mate's finish. Mirage would do the same.

* * *

Given the fiasco they'd encountered, Bluestreak was relieved both he and Drift had made it back to the base. He knew Ratchet would be furious if he didn't check into Medbay soon, but he knew he wasn't injured critically. It was much more important for him to see personally how Prowl had fared given how long he'd been gone. He knew Prowl would be aware of his new ETA before he'd even known, so it wasn't as if the mech would be that worried because of time, and Prowl would have been told that damage was minor. But Bluestreak had still been gone for a full seven orns, more than twice what was expected.

"Bluestreak, perhaps we can test out the new sniper range that was set up?" Mirage's voice was actually attached to a visible frame.

Startled by the offer since Mirage wasn't known for socializing, he slowed down to speak with the spy. "Sure. I'll let you know when I'm done meeting with Prowl and Medbay so we can work something out."

"I will speak to you then," Mirage agreed smoothly before the pair separated and Bluestreak hurried the rest of the way to Prowl's office.

Barely waiting for an acknowledgment, Bluestreak went straight into Prowl's office. "I'm back, sir." He looked Prowl over carefully, noticing how surprisingly well-kept his armor appeared. He'd kept up on fuel, cleaning, polishing and recharge reasonably well at first glance.

"It is good to see you, and that you are not badly damaged," Prowl acknowledged as he looked Bluestreak over. "You should be in medbay with Drift getting repaired however."

"I'm not really hurt and I wanted to see you first. Besides Ratchet won't get too upset since Drift needed more attention." Bluestreak's doorwings drooped slightly before perking back up. "You seem to be doing well."

"Mirage has been good company," Prowl said softly. While his face remained impassive, his doorwings gave the tiniest of flicks that Bluestreak zeroed in on.

"Good enough I need to find a new recharge-mate?" Bluestreak wasn't sure to be happy or upset on several levels. But mostly because it seemed so soon for Prowl to move on. He'd been with Jazz forever it seemed. It hadn't even been a vorn.

"No," Prowl shook his helm sharply. "We have not come close to being that intimate."

Bluestreak relaxed a bit as he listened to Prowl's response. At least he didn't seem to have been pushed into a relationship. "It's good you've got a new friend to spend time with."

"Yes," Prowl actually gave a faint smile. "Mirage is surprisingly good company when he wishes to be. He has a fine education, a sharp processor and knows how to play many games I have long enjoyed. There are so few who can play near my level."

Bluestreak was almost more pleased about Prowl's smile than anything he actually said about Mirage. Impulsively he hugged the tactician and dutifully ignored the startled sound Prowl made when he wasn't physically shoved away. "I'm glad you're happy now."

"That may be an exaggeration, but I am doing better than I was a decaorn ago," Prowl warned him gently. "I still have fluxes, good and bad."

"So do I." Bluestreak looked him in the optic, unusually serious. "That doesn't mean I can't be happy; it doesn't mean you can't be happy." Perking back up, he grinned. "So, what's happened while I was gone?"

"Aren't _you_ supposed to be giving _me_ a report before going to Medbay?" Prowl gave him a semi-serious glare.

"Here you go." Bluestreak passed the report over cheerfully. "Now, what's happened or do I have to hunt down Bumblebee?"

Prowl rolled his optics. "The highlights include Sideswipe being schooled twice during the tournament you missed. Springer and Mirage both had a turn at him and I dropped Springer as well. Ratchet is still prescribing pain blockers for that whiner, Hot Rod. It doesn't pay to insult the Blade Brothers when they're losing. I'm certain that most of the base is convinced that Mirage and I are dating. I've missed you and sparring with Drift."

"Mirage beat Sideswipe?" Bluestreak honed in on what was to him the more surprising part of the statement. Hot Rod being an idiot was not something he considered strange. "Maybe Drift will want to spar with him? It'd make a good change-up from the Blade Brothers."

"Quite skillfully. It's possible, and it's possible they already do. Both are rather private mecha," Prowl pointed out. "I'll bring it up to them."

::Bluestreak...:: Ratchet growled through the comm.

::Sorry, Ratchet, I know I should have checked in with you first thing and I'm on my way right now. I just had to check in on Prowl.:: Bluestreak made himself sound as sorry as possible for having inconvenienced Ratchet. He hugged Prowl again before heading for the door. "See you tonight after shift?"

"Yes." Prowl confirmed with an eager, if tiny, lift of his wings.

* * *

Mirage paused for a moment before walking into Prowl's office carrying two energon cubes. "I noticed Bluestreak wasn't carrying any fuel when I passed him earlier. Since Ratchet has him trapped in Medbay, I was wondering if you would mind refueling with me today?"

" I do not mind," Prowl greeted him with a small smile that had once been reserved for Jazz. "I enjoy your company."

Smiling happily, Mirage handed the cube to Prowl before seating himself in what he considered his chair across from the tactician. Taking a sip of his own cube, he looked at the stacks of datapads. "Anything I can assist you with today?"

Prowl considered the pile with a hum. "I understand that you were trained to manage a House of some size?"

"Yes, I was," Mirage responded, deeply curious about why that was asked. No one had cared about his noble skills beyond combat in ages.

"Then if you would review the inventory reports," Prowl handed him several datapads. "Pay special attention to Ratchet and Wheeljack. Wheeljack is partial to requesting things that require more explanation than he gives, while the Blade Brothers and Swoop are known to add things to the medical requests that should not be there when Ratchet is not watching."

"Thank your for your faith in me." Knowing that Prowl understood and appreciated his training made Mirage preen. "I'll also keep watch on Perceptor's requests. He's been collaborating with Wheeljack on several projects recently."

"Yes, the entire science department is prone to strange requests," Prowl flicked his doorwings with a hint of amusement. "Though Wheeljack is the only one that forgets to explain himself. The others are far more organized."

Mirage smiled and began going through the requests. He flagged one strange entry on Wheeljack's request: three hundred pounds of strontium with no notation of what experiment it was for. A quick search led to a flag and a jotted notation _fireworks?_ on the report before he moved on. Seeing nothing else too unusual, he gave that report back to Prowl before picking up Ratchet's inventory requests.

Prowl glanced at what Mirage had written and sorted. "There are orns I swear I would spend less time at this if I simply stood there when he filled his requests out."

"Possibly, but you'd have to enter his lab to get it." Mirage looked at the barely-touched cube next to Prowl. His own had been almost completely consumed while reading Wheeljack's entry. Having seen this before, Mirage finally felt comfortable enough to ask, "Is the energon not to your preference? I can exchange it if you would like something else."

"Mmmph?" Prowl glanced at the cube, then shook his helm. "No, I like it. I simply prefer to drink slowly when I can. It is one of the few luxuries left."

"Too true." Mirage paused, remembering the Towers and everything he used to enjoy living there. Forcing his thoughts away from the past lest he become too melancholy, he continued, "At least energon is plentiful on this planet."

"Yes, plentiful and varied," Prowl agreed with a soft sound and sip. "As much as I wish Prime did not insist that we remain here, at least the necessities are plentiful."

"It's a good location for resupply and recuperation, and our soldiers need the morale boost of having allies even if they are organic." Mirage managed to control his grimace of distaste as he finished his cube.

"True, at least for now. We will see how well that holds when it sinks in for most that few humans live a full vorn, and none see a vorn and a half," Prowl sighed. "We may be accustomed to loss, but not to age so young."

"This is getting too depressing." Mirage leaned back in the chair and looked up at Prowl expectantly. "Now, why would Ratchet want fifty pounds of aluminum foil?"

An optic ridged quirked up. "No notes with it?"

"No," Mirage turned the datapad around so Prowl could read it.

"Tag it for me to ask him later," Prowl instructed. "He's usually good about notating unusual requests, but not always. I expect the Blade Brothers, however."

"That seems more likely." Mirage attached a tag _foil_ to the entry. Nothing else struck him as unusual on any of the reports, although he made a small notation about the kind of ammunition Ironhide was requesting. He finished compiling his running tally of requests and loaded it onto the last datapad before handing it over to Prowl.

Prowl snorted at the note. "Ironhide and his toys."

"We all have our hobbies." Mirage's gaze lingered on Prowl's hands.

"Indeed," Prowl's optics followed the focus but did nothing to disrupt it. It was flattering to be the subject of attention. So few cared to look past his function, and when he was honest with himself he made it harder than he had to. He didn't want many close, knowing the odds of survival and that he'd order each to their deactivation as well as he did. But it didn't matter now, did it? It hardly mattered if their culture broke down. It would never matter if those left lost respect for him as an officer, or even as a being. It didn't even matter if he gave up on any pretense of following his sparked function or military function.

He wouldn't return to Primus soon enough, and neither would the few score of their kind that were left. They were an abomination to the being they claimed as their god and creator. A blight on the living universe. Like the humans they were beyond any salvation, only they had no excuses of not knowing what god was real or what their god wished of them.

No, to the last, they had chosen to abandon their world, their function, their purpose, to destroy all that mattered.

Mirage, almost mesmerized, watched the graceful flow of Prowl's hands as he worked. Sitting this tantalizingly close to Prowl was a quiet form of torture. He itched to touch, to feel those fingers moving across his own frame. It seemed to take all of his control not to reach out and caress those wonderful hands. He couldn't make himself stop the traces of awe and lust that slipped into his field.

He realized too late that his field had reached out far enough for Prowl to teek when the Praxian froze, his optics brightening quickly as he stared at Mirage.

"How long?" Prowl asked quietly.

"I've felt strongly attracted since just after we started recharging together." Mirage admitted. "The more time I spend around you, the more I want to be with you."

"Do you know why?" Prowl asked, careful to accept without encouraging for the moment. There were many reasons for desire and only some of them he would indulge, even in himself.

"You are an intellectually stimulating conversationalist, and I derive pleasure from being in your company even when we refrain from speaking. I miss you when I am not recharging next to you, and I find sparring with you stimulating. You are very aesthetically appealing, and my coding accepts you as a potential mate." Mirage paused for a moment. "And I do not like watching Sideswipe drape himself all over you."

Prowl couldn't help the amused glitter of his optics. "Fortunately, I am not fond of having him there." He turned serious again. "Since the assessments are mutual, do you wish to attempt more than looking?"

Mirage almost danced inside. Prowl had actually approached him. "I find the concept of a more physical, long-term relationship with you very appealing." He smiled. "I know that Bluestreak is a permanent part of your life, and I am attempting to form a stronger positive connection with him."

"Something I know he will be delighted with and will make time easier for us. His presence in my existence has a factor that you may not be aware of: even if we share a berth, he will occasionally be there," Prowl was serious. "While there are several mecha on base that recharge with him, occasionally the replays are bad enough he turns to me. My Enforcer coding is still active enough to teek in my field. It helps him remain calm."

"Of course." Mirage nodded solemnly. "Hopefully he will become comfortable having my presence there as well."

"I expect he will. Bluestreak is not particularly discriminating when it comes to recharge companions. So long as you don't have fluxes yourself or will react badly to his, he'd never turned someone away," Prowl said.

Mirage allowed some of the tension to ease in his shoulders and reached out to lightly touch Prowl's hand. The teek of welcome made his spark flutter giddily. "Good. I will be meeting with him shortly to test out the new range, and I'm hoping to have a friendly match."

"I'm sure you will. Neither of you are prone to random acts of violence, even when mildly provoked. You are too well socialized and his nature is too gentle," Prowl smiled more through his field than his features.

"I know you will want to spend time with Bluestreak today, but I would like to meet you after your next shift if possible." Mirage ran his fingers lightly along Prowl's hand, tracing the seams and joints. He felt Prowl turn his hand over, offering the far more sensitive palm in a statement of trust and desire for the touch.

"Thank you. I will speak with Bluestreak about his needs when I see him next," Prowl's thumb moved to stroke along the side of Mirage's hand. "Don't be surprised by irritation or scowling interrogation if you mention our change in status. I did just finish telling him that nothing had changed. That we are not lovers."

"I'll willingly take the fallout from him since it means I get you." Mirage chuckled lightly. "Since most mechs think we're already involved I don't think we're going to surprise anyone if we're just seen together more. I reserve the right to change my mind about a public announcement if Sideswipe tries anything again."

"He will," Prowl sighed roughly. "He does it to annoy me, primarily. I must admit I look forward to the time when you drill it into him that it's not safe to touch me."

Mirage purred and brought his other hand up to stroke Prowl's arm. "Then I will plan on another bout in the near future. He might actually be a challenge next time since he knows I'm not just an attractive frame."

"Only a fool would think that," Prowl's field flared in disgust at the idea even as he leaned into the touch fractionally with flickers of arousal. "One does not reach your rank without _skills_. How anyone could believe a field agent of your tenure could be 'just a pretty frame' is beyond me."

Mirage allowed his pleasure at the praise to lightly dance against Prowl's field as his own arousal climbed higher. "Skills unseen are often skills ignored. Look at how many were surprised by your own success against Springer. They forget that you are a trained Enforcer and see only a mech behind a desk. I can't help but thank them in a way for their blindness; they overlooked a treasure. Their loss is my gain."

"As is mine," Prowl actually purred. There was a flicker of hesitation in his field, then he stood and walked around his desk to draw Mirage up. Every move slow and easily stopped, he guided Mirage's face to his for a gentle, chaste kiss that was as much about exploring their reactions to the contact as the contact itself.

Mirage traced his hands up Prowl's arms, bringing them to rest lightly on both of his shoulders as they kissed. It brought him closer to the tempting doorwings, but he refrained from touching this time. He allowed the pleasure and joy the contact brought to fill his field. That joy only soared as Prowl's field smoothed and mingled with his, full of enjoyment and arousal that led to a second kiss. Despite all that there were very noticeable flares of distress and grief in Prowl's field as well.

Mirage shifted his focus from passion to comfort. He gently steered Prowl back towards his chair. Pulling him down into the chair, he climbed onto Prowl's lap, resting his head on Prowl's shoulder. The way Prowl's arms and field wrapped around him, accepting the comfort, even wanting it, was as sweet as any passion for Mirage. For a being who knew casual pleasure to the point it meant nothing, the emotional connection and _trust_ was worth so much more. 

They rested they way until two pings came in, one for each. Mirage reflexively listed to Prowl's as he answered his own.

::Just warning you the kid's loose,:: Ratchet told Prowl.

::Hay Mirage!:: Bluestreak chirped happy. ::Ratchet's letting me go. Think you can come to the range for a joor or two? We could get daylight and night shooting in.::

Mirage pulled back slightly to face Prowl, giving him a light kiss. "Do you want me to stay? I don't mind telling Bluestreak to give me another joor if you prefer."

"Go, enjoy some time with him," Prowl said firmly. "It won't always be clean, grieving for Jazz and moving on so quickly. I am in no danger."

"Of course you aren't in danger." Mirage kissed him again smiling playfully as he slid off of Prowl's lap. "You have Bluestreak and I to help you grieve and help you smile." After a last tantalizing brush of their fields, he commed Bluestreak as he headed out of the office. ::I'll join you shortly, Bluestreak.::

::Great!:: the relatively young Praxian cheered and began babbling, something that was still going on when Mirage joined him at the Au Pave Shooting Range. Otherwise known as For BFG.

Bluestreak seemed to be in high spirits but was as always completely professional as they prepped their weapons. Having already alerted everyone that the range was in use, he nodded towards the first target at three miles out. "Ready? You first."

Waiting until Mirage was lining up on his target, Bluestreak casually asked, "So what's up with you and Prowl?"

"That is in flux at the moment," Mirage answered before stilling completely, even his ventilations and fuel pump, for a nanoklik it took to pull the trigger. Relaxing he brought his weapon down after a perfect center strike and watched Bluestreak line up. "This orn, while you were in medbay, was both our first kiss and our first discussion of where we wish to go."

Bluestreak paused at Mirage's admittance, but he was far too professional to allow it to break his focus. Snapping off a perfect shot, he motioned Mirage over to the next target. "Prowl said you weren't involved before I went to Medbay. Are you rushing him into this?"

"No. He broached the subject," Mirage promised as he set up with a signal for the target at six miles to activate. "He could have ignored the desire in my field. I was sitting on the other side of his desk."

"I heard about your grudge match with Sideswipe. I know he's been all over Prowl in the past, and I heard he's been doing it again. Some of the mechs say you were staking your claim. He's all I've got left. What are your intentions with him?" Bluestreak watched Mirage take aim. The noble was silent as he settled in, focused and got off the perfect shot.

Even after that Mirage remained silent as he contemplated exactly how he wished to phrase it to one he did not share a core culture with. "How much do you understand about Second Creation noble coding?"

"Very little." Bluestreak admitted after taking his own shot. "My caste in Praxus had almost no contact with nobles and there's very little information available to me in the records."

"There here are the basics, at least for Tower nobles such as myself. There are four types of coding, of which only two are common. First Creation coding are for those who are dominant; those who will lead. Second Creation coding is for the subordinate; those who follow. As their designations imply, creation order determines what you receive. The purpose of a Second Creation is to please those above them in station," he paused to see if Bluestreak could follow or if he'd need to break it down further.

Bluestreak looked at Mirage carefully pondering his words. "So a Second Creation serves a First Creation?"

"And others above them in station ... rank," Mirage added. "The politics of station are complicated at best, however given the current situation, it would be accurate to say that my original function demands that I serve those above me in rank. Currently, those mecha are Whiplash, Prowl and Optimus Prime. Ultra Magnus and other unit commanders may also qualify in some circumstances."

"So you have to obey them since they outrank you." Bluestreak suddenly looked very worried. "Does that mean you couldn't say no to Prowl even if you didn't want to be involved with him? He won't like that at all."

"If I did not wish to be with him, I can petition the Prime, as one who ranks us both," Mirage had to think about that. "I do wish to be with him, and to make him happy."

"That's good to know." Bluestreak looked a little torn. "You seem to be helping. He seems more stable than he was when I left."

"Good," Mirage smiled slightly. "I want him to be happy."

"So do I." Bluestreak turned to face Mirage, staring straight into his optics. "I'll accept you since you're helping him heal and break back out of his shell. If you hurt him I'll make certain even Whiplash can't find your frame."

Mirage simply inclined his helm in acceptance of the threat and where it was coming from. No matter how odd it seemed to him, he had been around commoners long enough to grasp that the threat normally leveled against the dominant mate was expected by both sides among commoners.


	5. Passion Ignited

Whiplash didn't feel the need to watch over Prowl in person much any more. Between Bluestreak and Mirage, the tactician was fundamentally as stable as he'd ever been during the war. However now that he was sure Mirage was not completely Mirage despite having his coding come up completely genuine, he was watching his agent more than his tactician. Whatever was going on with Mirage was good for morale, so long as it remained on its current path.

The noble wasn't just currying favor and obeying orders when he started establishing this rapport; he'd had a radical change in behavior towards Prowl in a very short period of time. Whiplash had seen how agitated Mirage had gotten over Sideswipe's flirting, and he knew just how close to lethal that fight had really been. What was possibly more disturbing was that Prowl _must_ have realized it as well, and instead of reprimanding Mirage over almost deactivating an important warrior, he rewarded him.

It was not normal for either of them, yet he knew it wasn't coding causing it.

It was Jazz. He was sure of it. How, he couldn't even begin to guess, but Mirage was beginning to behave more like Jazz with every passing orn when it came to Prowl. More interesting was that Prowl responded to Mirage as he did to Jazz.

It made no sense, but then half the time Jazz never did. Mech could do things that even Whiplash couldn't work out.

He knew from examining Ratchet's records that some of Jazz's parts were used to fix Mirage. While that explained the tonal changes he'd originally noticed in Mirage's voice, it didn't explain the slang Mirage had started using when he was around Prowl.

He knew Jazz had been in Mirage's systems on many occasions and had rewritten massive sections of his coding. He wasn't so sure he put it beyond his former student-turned-boss to write this kind of sleeper program, but the question was _why_. Jazz believed in the after, at least as much as anyone in the job could. He believed they did what needed doing. Why would he code an agent to become him if he extinguished? It wasn't the kind of hubris that he believed Jazz had.

When the door opened to Prowl's quarters he stilled those thoughts and focused on what was going on in the moment. Half a klik later all thoughts willingly abandoned him as he watched the pair kiss and stroke plating like there was no tomorrow.

It was _exactly_ what Jazz and Prowl were like after a long separation. Mirage was pressed against Prowl chestplate fingers dancing along Prowl's doorwings. He pulled away from the kiss to latch onto Prowl's neck cabling for a few kliks, biting and kissing the other mech frantically. Even at this distance Whiplash could teek the desire and lust in their fields as Prowl's helm fell back with a deep moan. Just the fact that Mirage already knew so many of Prowl's more unusual hot spots was another mark on the question list of what Jazz did to him. There was no way Mirage should know some of these moves yet.

It was hot to watch, and already Whiplash could feel his charge begin to grow and his arrays heat. He was going to need relief after this.

Oblivious to being watched, Mirage was almost past thought as his every effort to draw pleasure from his lover met with success. It was intoxicating how Prowl moved with him, touched him and responded to being touched.

"Been so long," Prowl moaned with a shudder and pulled Mirage even more flush against him, grinding their frames together for that delicious friction. "Top or bottom?"

"Ride you." Mirage gasped and clung to Prowl, reveling in the intense pleasure filling his frame. He desperately wanted to feel that spike sliding into him. He felt the excitement in Prowl's field, the agreement that was far more than just agreeing as Prowl briefly let go to lay down. Despite how much Mirage wanted to follow, to fall into the berth with his lover, he understood the care needed for Prowl to be on his back.

As soon as Prowl was comfortable and beckoned to him, Mirage climbed on top of him, kissing his way across the Praxian's chestplate as he straddled him. Every moan and burst of pleasure-arousal sent his own desire surging. When he heard the click of an interface cover open and slide away Mirage's valve cover snapped open. He arched his back, tracing a hand down Prowl's chestplate.

Prowl moaned at the sighed, his optics bright as his hands came up to caress Mirage's sides, then chest. "Beautiful."

Flushing slightly at the sincerity behind the compliment, he reached down to slide his fingers along Prowl's spike housing, brushing them across his own valve rim at the same time. Trembling at the added stimulation, he moaned out. "Fill me, lover."

A shiver passed through Prowl at the touch and his spike responded with a surge from the housing. In only a few strokes of Mirage's delicate fingers it was fully extended and pressurized, ready to fill him and eager. Raising his frame, Mirage slid down on the offered spike. Fully seated, he froze for a moment, offlining his optics as he enjoyed the fullness it brought. It had been so long. So very, very long.

Under him Prowl groaned in pleasure at the slick, high heat. As eager as he was, he enjoyed the stillness of this first moment just as much as Mirage did. Mirage lifted himself slowly until just the tip of the spike was in his valve, the smooth head resting against the rim and the ridged shaft rubbing against fluttering platelets. Staring down at his lover's bliss-filled face, he slid back down onto the spike. It was difficult to tell which was better: the way Prowl moaned and teeked, or the way that exquisite spike spreading him wide and rubbing the sensor-dense lining so perfectly.

Mirage began to move along the spike, changing angles and speed as he slid along the spike to draw more sounds from his lover. Prowl was willingly vocal, and though his hands rested on Mirage's hips and teased the wires he could reach there, he made no effort to control the way Mirage moved. With the tension in Prowl's frame, Mirage knew he was holding himself in tight check, giving Mirage control for as long as he wanted it. He was just as sure that when he gave up that control that Prowl would pound into him with all the built-up need in him to send them crashing into one overload after another.

Mirage leaned forward to place both hands on Prowl's shoulders, gripping his plating. Using the leverage his new position gave he rode the spike even harder, staring straight down into Prowl's bright golden optics. How could he have never noticed how lovely a shade they were? Under him Prowl moaned deeply and lost his battle with holding still a bit to begin thrusting up as Mirage moved down.

"Beautiful, tight ... Primus you feel good," Prowl shuddered in his pleasure.

Mirage could feel his control slipping as he watched Prowl get lost in his own pleasure. Impulsively he leaned forward and ran his glossa along one of the points of Prowl's chevron. The sharp keen came with a hard thrust up and tightening fingers as well has a surge of pleasure in Prowl's field. Mirage pulled away from the tempting point and whispered, "Claim me, love." He sank down and let all his desire spill into his field.

With a moan that was nearly a growl, Prowl's hands moved to pulled Mirage against him for a demanding kiss as he rolled them over. When he lifted himself up slightly one arm slid under Mirage so Prowl could grip his shoulder. The first thrust he drove into rocked Mirage's frame hard enough that he was grateful for the brace holding him in place.

As exquisitely pleasurable as riding Prowl had felt, this was so much better. The intense power of that Enforcer frame directed completely at pounding into him was deliriously good. He reached upward and slipped a hand onto Prowl's back, reaching for those maddeningly tempting doorwings. He pulled his legs up and wrapped them around Prowl's hips, opening himself up even more to that wonderfully thick spike as it slid in and out.

Prowl's lip plates found his neck cabling even as doorwings were pressed forward and down for him to reach. Both of Mirage's hands sought out the doorwings, fingers dancing along the edges before exploring every seam and sensor in reach. He tried to time his exploration to match Prowl's thrusts, wanting to see if he could drive his lover even wilder. He teeked it more than felt it when Prowl lost his final grasp on anything but the pleasure of his frame. In just three thrusts Prowl's helm snapped back with a bellow and the first hot, thick burst of crackling transfluid right against the anterior nodes of Mirage's valve.

Mirage felt his own pleasure overwhelming him even as he relished Prowl's loss of control. He rocked against the spike inside him, shivering as it stimulated sensors all through his valve. With a small whimper, he latched onto Prowl's neck cabling, licking and suckling even as his fingers spasmed across Prowl's doorwings. Prowl's teek of enjoyment at his pleasure was just enough to drive him over the edge.

Oh, to have a lover that got off on his pleasure ... it was blinding.

When Mirage came back to reality, he found himself in Prowl's arms, still on his back and with Prowl lavishing his neck with attention as Prowl's hips made small, rolling grinds against his.

No wonder he'd gone so high.

"More?" Prowl cooed with a kiss to his jaw.

"Please." One hand moved to the back of Prowl's helm as Mirage kissed him, lifting his hips to move in sync with Prowl. With one overload each the need was much less and Prowl seemed content to be leisurely about building their next peak. The rhythm was steady, each thrust angled to stroke against different nodes but in a pattern that allowed Mirage to anticipate what would be stimulated next.

"What's the thing that makes you burn the hottest?" Prowl asked between kisses.

Mirage stared at Prowl a few nanokliks, startled by the question very few of his lovers had ever bothered to ask. He finally answered, "Sparkplay while being spiked."

"Then open your armor," Prowl purred with a spike of excitement. 

Desire filled Mirage's field as he unlatched his chestplate, his own optics locked on Prowl's face and the excitement so clear there as his bright sky blue spark came into view, glittering in its crystalline cage. With his armor out of the way, Prowl's field was even more intense as the pleasure, desire and _honor_ he felt washed over the spark chamber directly.

With a low, soft hum Prowl x-vented across the chamber, teasing Mirage with the promise of touch.

Mirage let out a small gasp at the contact and arched up toward Prowl. "Please." The quiet plea slipped from him without a thought. He hadn't ever _wanted_ a lover like this before he'd discovered Prowl.

"So lovely," Prowl trilled as he leaned closer to kiss the center of the iris, then slid the tip of his glossa along each fine seam. All that while his hips never lost their rhythm. Both of Mirage's hands found Prowl's shoulders and he clung fiercely to the heavy plating. The contact both centered Mirage and inflamed his desire. It was everything best in tactile, the touch of one who genuinely desire to please who they were touching and knew how.

Oh, when Prowl learned the quirks of his frame this would be utter perfection.

The next touch, one tracing the fine wires that connected spark to the frame's sensor systems whited out Mirage's awareness in a wash of bliss. 

Mirage gradually onlined his optics, drawing himself back as he focused on his lover. He could feel Prowl's field completely enveloping him, rich with arousal, charge and a smug pleasure.

"I look forward to doing that often," Prowl purred into a long, heated kiss.

Mirage eagerly melted into the kiss matching pleasure with passion. Breaking off, he murmured. "What do you desire most, love?"

A shiver passed through Prowl's frame and field that was as raw as it was hot. "You against my back, deep inside me, stroking my wings."

Mirage leaned up and kissed the center of Prowl's chevron. He disentangled himself from Prowl's frame, making certain to touch and tease as much as possible while sliding out from under him. Prowl moved with him, making both moving and touching easy until Mirage was on his knees between Prowl's and facing the dripping valve and arched back of his lover.

He drank in the intoxicating sight as he reached out to touch the powerful frame spread out so willingly just for him. He slid his fingers along the edges of the valve, testing Prowl's readiness for his spike and shooting his own desire even higher when he found it even slicker than it looked. Prowl quivered at the touch and rolled his hips back to seek more at the same time he wiggled his wings for attention.

Mirage's slick fingers reached up and found where wings met back, stroking the sensitive connections before moving out onto the rest of the wings. Pressing his chestplate down onto the wings, he lined his hips against Prowl's valve and felt his spike slide straight into his lover as he bit down on his neck cabling. Prowl arched into it, pressing against Mirage along their entire frames with a startled keen that only enhanced the intensity of the rush of arousal through Prowl's field.

Feeding off Prowl's need, Mirage dragged his spike almost all the way out of Prowl's valve, stimulating every sensor he could find while he revved his engine sending the vibrations through Prowl's wings and frame. It was hot, being so domineering. Forbidden. A dirty secret. He shouldn't want this. His mate shouldn't want this. But oh, it felt so incredibly good to do something, anything, that made Prowl keen and shiver like that. To feel the intense arousal of a kink long denied being indulged crashing through him with Prowl's field.

Oh, it felt amazing. As good as the physical was, as good as it felt to have Prowl drive into him, this was maybe even better. This was indulging his mate and Mirage could already feel the rarely used code to adapt to his mate working on him so he found this as desirable as Prowl did. If Prowl desired a mate that could dominate him, then Mirage would be that mate for him. Driving his hips forward, he thrust his spike deep into the slick valve. His hands worked the wings using this new angle to explore every sensitive spot he'd found in past encounters and focused on being that strong, covering presence that Prowl seemed to crave.

It barely took a dozen thrusts before Prowl's trembling changed tenor with his charge nearing the tripping point. Mirage briefly wished for Jazz's magnets to use on Prowl's wings. Instead, he focused all his lust and desire into his field. Roughly he whispered into Prowl's audios, "I love feeling you around my spike."

Whether it was the words, the tone, the lust or the driving thrust that went with it all, Prowl's reaction was a scream of raw, pure bliss far exceeding what he gained from his spike. Feeling Prowl let go was intoxicating, almost better than being spiked himself. Still clinging to the Praxian's back, he gently lowered the lax frame to the berth, cuddling close as Prowl rebooted.

It felt so good to be there when his lover's field extended to touch his, the higher functions not yet on line, and feel how welcome he was. Mirage was sure that he'd do anything to keep his mate, and keep him happy.

* * *

Less than a decaorn later Mirage found himself at a family dinner of sorts. He still wasn't entirely clear on the purpose of it, but there was no way he was going to say no when Prowl had asked. It would make a good impression on the only other mech to be there, and Bluestreak's good graces were important. He'd had to fall back on his House training and the limited available data in the archives as he prepared to be the perfect subordinate mate in a Praxian household. He couldn't allow his ignorance to insult Bluestreak, and he certainly wasn't going to ask Smokescreen for advice. 

Prowl had been happy to talk to him about it, but it wasn't _useful_ information. Prowl insisted it was just time for those close to him to relax and be away from the crew for a while. Though it would only be Bluestreak tonight, Prime and Ratchet were often there, as was Whiplash and other command officers. Occasionally Smokescreen was allowed as a fellow Praxian, but it wasn't common. 

The description reminded Mirage more than a little of an Ops Night In. A time for those brought close by function and lack of options to socialize with those that understood.

He carefully polished himself to an acceptable finish before making certain that their energon preferences were available for consumption. One thing that made being on this organic world tolerable was the numerous available fuel sources. Hydro, magma, tectonic, aero, crystal, nuclear, dozens of chemical reactions and so many more. It was as fine a spread as anything that could be produced for his House's table before the war.

"You are far too jacked up about this," Prowl slipped his arms around Mirage from behind and nuzzled him. "It's just the three of us. No one you need to impress."

"The most important people for me to impress will be here." Mirage corrected gently as he turned his helm to kiss Prowl lightly. "You and your creation."

Prowl hummed and willing followed the kiss for as long as it was allowed. "I would advise you to just be yourself, but I know that you are. Bluestreak likes you because you make me happy."

Mirage stood content in Prowl's arms for a moment as he mentally checked one final time to make certain everything was tidy and in order. Energon, music, seating, a few games for later...

It was all as it should be. He was even beginning to relax in Prowl's touch and field when the door slid open. The "Awww, cute!" chirp startled them both, but Prowl didn't let go.

Bluestreak smiled as he walked up to the cuddling pair, ignoring Mirage's halfhearted attempt to slide free of Prowl's grasp. Spending time on the firing range with Mirage had helped him warm up to the reserved noble. The warmth and life in Prowl's field was exciting and reassuring and would have been enough to get him to accept Mirage even if they hadn't found any other common ground.

"Fuel?" Mirage finally broke the scene and prompted Prowl to let him go.

The two Praxians shared a brief look of amusement as Mirage walked gracefully towards the energon arranged neatly on the counter. "Bluestreak, do you have a preference besides your usual today?"

"Ooo, you've got quartz there, don't you?" Bluestreak perked up sharply.

"Yes, it's quite good," Prowl chuckled at his adoptive creation's sudden interest.

Mirage smiled while he filled the Bluestreak's cube with the desired energon and added the sweets-addicted mech's favorite iron oxide. Turning to the other two cubes, he quickly prepared Prowl's favorite blend of hydro and arsenic and cuprous oxide. After he finished, he started on his own cube, mixing cupric oxide and gold into magma for a rich, heavy blend that was both sweet and spicy.

With everyone given their cube, Prowl guided them to a sound table set up for a simple game that was as much luck as it was skill. At least so long as Mirage did the shuffling and dealing. Both Praxians were entirely too skilled at trick shuffling and dealing to be trusted.

"So is it a Praxian thing to be good at games of chance or did Prowl and Smokescreen teach you?" Mirage grumbled playfully as he shuffled the cards sliding easily in his hands. He could cheat with the best of them thanks to his Ops training, but he refused to use it unless on a mission that required such dishonorable tactics. He was grateful that as long as they weren't shuffling or dealing, these two didn't actively cheat. He was fairly sure that it wasn't a fully conscious choice, though that idea did make his processors hurt when put in context with the Enforcer that Prowl still was.

"Oh, gaming and gambling is very much a Praxian thing," Bluestreak giggled. "Smokescreen is just lousy at hiding how good he is."

"Why am I not surprised?" Mirage sighed theatrically. "So, anything of interest happen recently?"

"Humans last so little time," Bluestreak began to ramble. "I mean, Prime's only been on Terra two and a half metacycles and we just had that big deactivation ceremony for the last human survivor of the war. Even the really old humans are barely more than a vorn old. It's hard to think about such short lives."

"I don't understand why Bumblebee insists on interacting with them." Mirage couldn't understand the scout's decision. Despite being on this planet he still disliked organics on principle and tried to avoid them whenever possible. "On a lighter note, I've noticed recently that a certain mech appears to have a crush on Smokescreen." 

"Really?" Prowl lifted an optic ridge as Bluestreak giggled. "Should I be concerned?"

"No, there's no need for concern yet. He hasn't progressed beyond staring whenever he thinks Smokescreen isn't looking." Mirage pondered his cards for a moment. It wasn't a bad hand, but it wasn't that solid either. "Swoop is rather shy about matters of the spark."

"It'll be fun to give the talk to somebody who might actually be scared by it," Bluestreak giggled.

"Indeed, though we can't scare him too much or Grimlock and the others will come after us," Prowl almost purred with an amused twitch of his doorwings and set down the energon chip bet. Though they all had credits to lose, Prowl insisted that as a friendly game no one could have more than a single standard cube's worth for the entire night; it wasn't even a cube's worth of high grade in total. Betting material more because playing cards without betting was weird to them all than anything worth winning.

"I'd be more concerned about Grimlock giving Smokescreen the talk." Mirage decided to play the hand out and placed his bet.

"You're assuming Grimlock believes Smokescreen would be any threat to Swoop," Bluestreak giggled. "The Dinos are kinda big on standing up for themselves."

"I anticipate Grimlock would assume Smokescreen would just know," Prowl pointed out mildly as Bluestreak called for two new cards, then placed his bet of one chip.

"True," Mirage conceded, acknowledging Prowl's superior knowledge of Dinobot dynamics. "Though it's been a while since Grimlock reminded the troops why they should fear him." Nodding towards Bluestreak he continued. "Fortunately for Smokescreen he is unlikely to be a target unless he does something stupid. Of course, this assumes Smokescreen actually notices Swoop's intentions."

"He's noticed," Prowl almost chuckled. "He doesn't return them, so he's ignoring him until it becomes more blatant."

"Probably the wisest move. Swoop will move on to another crush soon enough." Mirage impulsively reached over with his foot and rubbed Prowl's leg lightly. He earned a slight flutter of the doorwing nearest him and a flush of desire across their mingled fields.

"Maybe he'll like me one orn," Bluestreak said with almost faked wistfulness. "Swoop is rather sweet, and those _wings_. Not many mecha have wings anymore."

The idea was quite enough to quench anything amours in Prowl's processors as he stared at the younger Praxian. "You can not be serious."

"It got your processors off Mirage," Bluestreak teased.

"Nice to know it takes the threat of a Dinobot to achieve that, love." Mirage sighed dramatically and then smiled at Bluestreak. "So, is there anyone who's really caught your fancy?"

"Not really," Bluestreak shook his helm with resigned wings. "I want a mate, but there's just so few left, and even fewer that aren't taken."

"There is someone for you, Blue." Mirage put down his cards and touched Bluestreak's arm. "I never really thought I would find someone."

"Neither did I, and now I have been blessed twice," Prowl added with a touch of their wings. "It may not come in the form you expected, or even desire, but if you are open, it will come."

"Thanks, both of you," Bluestreak leaned into both touches, his field full of his familial affection for them and their actions. "Now, who's turn was it?"

"Mine." Mirage picked up his cards and tossed a pair of chips in the pile before looking at them again. No luck, they still hadn't changed this time. He put his foot back on Prowl's leg and felt Prowl lean into the contact. Despite his disruption earlier, Bluestreak's smile was genuine.


	6. Upgrades

Mirage stood sheltered in Prowl's arms as they joined the traditional chorus asking Primus to honor this bonding. When Wheeljack had approached him last orn with his request for assistance preparing for this moment it had been a surprise honor for the spy, and he was pleased with the results as he watched the silver-glyphed inventor approach Prime. Ratchet was no less well-decorated by Sunstreaker, though his natural grumpiness made his display less appealing, at least to Mirage.

His thoughts drifted to seeing himself, seeing his mate, up there. What would Prowl's glyphs look like? Strength, honor, dedication, loyalty, passion, all those would surely decorate his frame. 

Prowl would look even more majestic than normal when they bonded. Mirage couldn't help but notice Sideswipe's covetous glance at Prowl as he rolled up into his place in the honor guard. Reminding himself that a duel was incredibly poor taste at a bonding, Mirage privately vowed to finally put the frontliner in his place after the ceremony. He'd do it as often as he had to, and with pleasure.

As the song ended Prowl rubbed Mirage's side, soothing his desire to display his worth.

Mirage watched Ratchet and Wheeljack shakily rise, kneeling before their Prime. As he could see their Prime's chestplate begin to split Mirage felt the urge to begin a new song. Compelled by the awe of the moment, he opened his voice to its full range and began to sing.

He saw everyone startle slightly, then his song was picked up by the handful of ancients still functioning. From Ironhide and Chromia's deep rumbles to the light, high and pure notes of Blaster and his brood, those who knew the far older bonding song offered the harmony to a mech old enough to know it well.

Ratchet glanced towards Mirage and nodded his thanks. From behind Prowl's field spoke of both surprise and pleasure at Mirage's action.

As the song finished, everyone fell silent waiting for Prime to speak. He paused, allowing the light from his spark and the Matrix to shine upon the pair before him. Mirage could feel the power behind Prime's voice as he spoke. "Ratchet of the Autobots, healer, Spark from Primus. Why do you come before us?"

"To bond my spark to Wheeljack and for all to witness and know our commitment," Ratchet spoke more formally than anyone had heard him before.

Prime spoke again as Ratchet fell silent. "Wheeljack of the Autobots, inventor, Spark from Primus. Why do you come before us?"

"To finally claim the mech I love in spark as well as frame," Wheeljack motioned to Ratchet. "I'm not so crazy as to let him get away now that he knows it's safe enough to bond."

Mirage's noble sensibilities wanted to cringe at Wheeljack's nontraditional answer, but it felt right to hear him saying it in his own words. Why shouldn't he loudly proclaim just how much he desired his mate? Around him several mecha chuckled, and even Prowl teeked of amusement.

"Impertinent as ever," Ratchet grumbled but didn't try to cuff the mech. Despite his words, the affection he rarely showed was clear in Ratchet's frame this orn.

Prime broke into a smile at Ratchet's words. With a nod towards the audience he spoke. "Ratchet, Wheeljack, you have stated your intentions before these witnesses. Now, join your sparks before Primus."

"Come here, you," Ratchet turned to Wheeljack as they knelt, facing each other and chest-to-chest. Before their armor parted, Wheeljack claimed a heated kiss.

Ratchet leaned into the kiss, and the pair broke it off only after a not-so-discrete chuckle from Ironhide. As their armor separated Mirage had a glimpse of Wheeljack's pale lavender spark reflecting off Ratchet's plating. A moment later Ratchet's equally heavy armor parted and the palest of yellow glows glimmered off Wheeljack's white platting. The pair lost all track of those around them and Mirage could only watch in longing for the mech holding him.

Watching Ratchet and Wheeljack as they bonded, all Mirage wanted to trade places with them. He wanted to see his Prowler kneeling before Prime ready to unite their sparks, to have that ice blue spark reflect off his frame.

When did he learn Prowl's spark color?

Mirage pushed the thought away. It didn't matter. He knew. He often knew things he couldn't recall how he learned. It was part of the function, and especially with being around Jazz.

When the merged faded and the sparks finally tucked away, Optimus Prime also closed his armor. "Tonight we celebrate the first bonding in far, far too long. Let no one be unhappy."

Ratchet and Wheeljack helped each other stand neither wanting to be the one to break contact. They clearly had no interest in anyone else and would undoubtedly be two of the first to leave the party. 

Mirage shot a warning glare at Sideswipe. Just because Prime said no one should be unhappy did not mean he was going to share his mate with the upstart frontliner. It earned a rumble and glare in reply, and then Prowl had Mirage's attention as he guided his mate towards the edge of the forming party. Blaster handled music, a range suited to the occasion and the variety of mecha present. It wasn't long before he felt himself wanting to dance to the beat as so many others were.

Mirage twisted around to face Prowl. Ghosting caresses across Prowl's frame as he started moving with the music, Mirage let desire and lust bleed into his field. "Dance with me, love."

Prowl stiffened, uneasy, but one pleading look and he was lost and knew it. "Just remember I don't dance well," he whispered as he allowed himself to be drawn onto the dance floor.

Mirage slid himself up against Prowl and pressed their frames together as he helped his nervous lover move with the beat. "Just follow my lead."

"That I can do," Prowl murmured as he relaxed. He was well-practiced at following a lead and it suited much of his nature.

Subtly telegraphing his moves to his partner Mirage maneuvered them on the dance floor. It felt strangely right leading the dance; helping his lover look and perform his best in this social situation. It felt good too, that Prowl trusted him enough to follow his lead so fully. It felt even better to teek how smooth Prowl's field was in that trust.

Mirage kept their movements simple and made certain to keep Prowl from bumping into anyone. After they had several passes under their plating he relaxed and placed his helm on Prowl's shoulder. With their frames this close it wasn't long before Prowl fully embraced him, relaxed and trusting in frame and field. The rest of the universe faded for them both, though neither completely lost track of the objects around them.

As they neared the end of the piece, Mirage altered path to avoid collision as a mech approaching them and Prowl moved seamlessly along. The next song was soft, for romantic dancing among commoners. It encouraged that close contact Mirage was enjoying and Prowl was showing no signs of not wanting.

Mirage snuggled closer and shifted their steps to match the new song. Prowl faltered for a step or two before falling back into step with Mirage and moving smoothly with him once more. As they danced around another couple, Mirage murmured quietly into Prowl's audial. "Thank you for dancing with me."

"It has been pleasurable," Prowl murmured in reply.

Mirage sighed and relaxed completely against Prowl's shoulder. "I could dance with you like this forever, Prowler."

That sent a sharp ripple of _pain_ through Prowl's entire being. No matter how fast he controlled it, everyone saw and too many teeked.

Mirage pulled back from Prowl's shoulder and swiftly pressed their helms together, chevron to the center of his own helm and held still until Prowl steadied his ventilations. "I'm sorry, love."

"I know," Prowl murmured, setting more quickly by the moment. "It's just ... it's _Jazz's_."

Mirage cursed himself privately for causing his lover pain at such a joyful time. Why had he called him that? He knew only Jazz had ever used that endearment. Jazz was the only one who got away with calling Prowl _anything_ but his real designation or rank in audio range of the Praxian. That Prowl allowed endearments such as 'love' was a huge step. Now he'd gone and taken liberties and hurt the mech he loved more than himself.

His racing self-condemnation was stilled by a shifted in the way their forehelms touched. Prowl's field had smoothed out. The music was still going. Mecha were moving around them once more and not staring. The Prowl nudged him to move, to begin dancing again. Mirage fumbled for a moment before falling back into the steps. He deliberately kept them near the edge of the dance area and did not collapse onto Prowl's frame. He would not continue to be an embarrassment to his mate.

"I did not mean I did not like what you were doing," Prowl said quietly with a very gentle effort to draw Mirage against him once more.

Following Prowl's direction, Mirage carefully allowed his frame to rest against the Praxian's shoulder, but he kept himself more alert as the song finished. He could not hurt Prowl again.

* * *

Mirage paused outside Medbay until just before his appointment with Ratchet. He was hoping the medic was still in a good mood since he'd bonded with Wheeljack; at least the inventor hadn't blown himself up recently. Centering himself, he walked into the Medbay, looking around to see if Ratchet's apprentices were hanging around to snoop on their conversation. In the first sign he was going to be lucky, Ratchet seemed to had shooed them all out.

"Yes, we're alone. What is it?" Ratchet crossed his arms and glared.

"I would like to make some permanent modifications to my frame." Mirage vented lightly, glad not to have an audience.

That raised an optic ridge. "Why?"

"There are certain frame modifications that are useful in my line of work, and I would like to increase my usefulness to my commanders." Mirage prevaricated, not wanting to admit his real reasoning.

Golden yellow optics narrowed at him and Mirage had the sensation of once more being a raw recruit he'd said something wrong.

Flustered although he tried not to show it, he finally came out and said it. "I'd like to be able to sooth Prowl's frame magnetically. It would help him relax."

"Is that _all_ you want them for?" Ratchet prodded carefully.

"While I admit having a surprise weapon if I'm attacked would be welcome and the ability to stay above my attacker could be useful," Mirage smiled slightly at the medic, "my primary goal is to increase my usefulness for Prowl's plans and activities."

Ratchet grunted. "I'll see what your frame can support. Anything else?"

"Yes, I'd like enhanced sensors, either sensory horns or something like doorwings. I want to be able to receive the kind of pleasure I've been giving Prowl." Mirage paused and continued. "I'd also like to be able to wear a visor."

"Let me guess, an enhancement one," Ratchet grumbled. "Horns I should be able to do. Doorwings will take an additional processor and enough bandwidth in your primary to handle it. They're something of an energy sink too, though nothing compared to Prowl's processor upgrades. Come back in a couple orns and we can discuss what you can actually support."

"Of course." Mirage bowed slightly to Ratchet and started to leave. He paused and turned back to Ratchet before the door opened. "Please don't mention this to Prowl. I'd like to surprise him."

Ratchet grunted something that could be taken several ways, but Mirage knew not to press and left with a fluttering spark.

* * *

It was more difficult that Mirage had expected not to tell Prowl of his plans. He wanted his lover's approval so much it ached. He didn't though, and now he was back in the medbay with Ratchet and no one else.

"Doorwings, wings of any kind, are right out," Ratchet opened the conversation.

Mirage nodded. He hadn't been very optimistic that he could support them given his frame was not originally designed for that particular modification.

Ratchet nodded at his acceptance. "Sensory horns can be done, though they won't be as sensitive as those who come by them naturally. You don't have the spare processor power for it. The visor will be much the same. The physical structures are simple enough. It's the data limits we'll need to adhere to."

"That is acceptable. It will be easier to adjust if I'm not making as significant a change to my systems." Mirage relaxed; these were two of the bigger changes he wanted to make and it sounded like it would work.

Then it's time to select what data you want the horns to pick up, and what percentage of the sensors will be dedicated to each," Ratchet handed him a datapad. "Tactile, general electromagnetic, audio, comms."

Mirage thought about it for a few nanokliks before quickly filling out the datapad. _Tactile 30%, general electromagnetic 27%, audio 25%, comms 18%._ He handed the datapad back to Ratchet. 

The medic glanced at it and quirked an optic ridge at Mirage.

"Is something wrong?" Mirage asked calmly, even if he wasn't calm inside.

"No, but that is the exact ratio Jazz used," Ratchet told him.

"It seemed like the most useful set-up for my current career. Apparently I was correct." Mirage allowed only a faint trace of curiosity to tint his field at the perfectly understandable coincidence Ratchet had pointed out.

"He came by his naturally," Ratchet pointed out. "Here are your options for the visor. The form will recalculate the percentage left with each option changed."

Again Mirage studied the choices before him. He made a few adjustments experimentally to various wavelength sensitivities to see how things played out. After a few passes he found a setting that looked the most promising so he handed it back to Ratchet.

He really did not like the look the medic gave him, but this time remained silent.

"Are you really still Mirage in there?" Ratchet asked bluntly.

"What do you mean?" Mirage stared at Ratchet, perplexed by the medic's words. "You're the medic. You should know the answer to that question."

"I'm a medic of the frame," Ratchet corrected him. "I'm only passable at programming and can't do anything with the spark except try to keep it from guttering. You're trying to rebuild yourself into Jazz."

"So, because I want to do a few things to my frame to make myself more useful for my lover you think I'm trying to turn myself into a replica of a dead mech?" Mirage stared at Ratchet disturbed on several levels by the accusation. "I would gladly do anything for him, but you can rest assured Prowl knows I'm not Jazz." Mirage suppressed a small wince knowing he still wasn't everything Prowl needed.

"You shouldn't be doing this for Prowl, or Whiplash," Ratchet said almost gently. "Changes like this, without the war, should be for yourself."

Mirage looked down at his pedes for a klik before speaking softly. "They are for me but they are also for him. You know I am a second creation, Ratchet. It is my function and my desire to please my mate."

The medic sighed. "Have you told him yet?"

"No, I haven't discussed these changes with him. I was intending for them to be a surprise for him." Mirage shifted uncomfortably. Internally, he berated himself for thinking to do something so dramatic without approval. The medic's clear approval in his grunt and nod was only confounding, but at least the subject was dropped.

"All right, the last item you asked me to look into," Ratchet skimmed what had already been decided and his previous notes. "I can equip you with mag systems strong enough to hold you up, _but_..." he fixed Mirage with a hard look, "you will not be able to use them with your disruptor, and at full power they may reduce the full use of other upgrades."

Relieved Ratchet wasn't putting him on the spot any longer, Mirage nodded obediently. "The two systems will be completely incompatible even at the lowest setting?" That was disappointing but not completely unexpected; it had to be due to his quality frame construction that he was going to be able to support this many upgrades.

"Yes," Ratchet said firmly. "That disruptor of yours is a massive energy sink, something I know you are all too aware of. Magnets are as well, even at weak settings. So no trying to hold yourself to a ceiling invisible. You will fall."

"Understood. No invisible massages." Mirage couldn't help but comment.

Ratchet couldn't help but snort with a bit of a grin. "As if you could hide from him when you're that close."

"True." Mirage shrugged delicately. "How long will all of this take?"

Ratchet turned serious and studied the final arrangement. "Give me a decaorn to source the parts and plan it all. I'd prefer to do this in three stages. Each major upgrade allowed to settle before the next is installed."

Mirage pondered the schedule for a nanoklik. "That will be acceptable. I would prefer to have the magnets installed first if possible."

"That won't be a problem. Visor or horns second?" Ratchet made a quick note on the pad.

"Horns." Mirage stated firmly as those would be a treat for himself.

Another nod. "Now, any questions before I toss you out and get back to work?"

"Not right now, Ratchet. I'll send you some design preferences in a few joors." Mirage gave a short bow and turned to head out of Medbay.

* * *

Mirage slipped silently past Ironhide as he approached Prowl's quarters eager to try out the new upgrades on his lover. The Praxian still spent too many joors in his office, but a quick check indicated he'd gone back to his quarters just after Ratchet finished the installation. Finally alone in the hallway, Mirage opened the door and slipped inside, looking around for his mate. No familiar presence greeted him, so he deactivated his disruptor and quietly headed towards their berth and the recharging mech there. Even at this distance he could tell Prowl was on a fast boot cycle and might already be prepared to react, but not to think.

Carefully he extended his field out and lightly pressed against his lover to let him know someone familiar was near without actually waking him. He waited calmly until Prowl settled back down, the combat boot aborted and recharge re-initiated. Still keeping their fields mingled lightly, he settled down next to the recharging mech. Reaching out he carefully stroked a hand up Prowl's arm towards his shoulder.

Prowl field flicked upwards and he began to boot again, but the slower, safer version that would take more than a breem but leave him fully aware before reflexes activated. All the while Prowl's field caressed Mirage's, welcoming the mech and the attention. Emboldened now that it was safe to continue, Mirage danced his hand across Prowl's shoulder and onto his doorwing tracing glyphs of love and affection as he went.

The wing twitched briefly, then stilled, then pressed into the contact with a chassis-moan of soft pleasure. Prowl's field flared up brighter, physical pleasure dancing between the background energy lines. It was enough to make his spark soar. His mate's approval, that even without being fully aware Prowl's spark and field desired him and wish him to touch.

It was everything to his second creation coding, no matter how mangled.

Still caressing the offered wing, Mirage allowed his other hand to trace up Prowl's arm before resting it lightly on his shoulder. Carefully, he activated that magnet at the lowest possible setting.

A deep, resonant groan rumbled from Prowl's chassis and Mirage could teek physical pleasure, and a content slowing of the boot cycle.

Enjoying his mate's responses, he began experimenting, running the magnet in his hand along seams and plating, wanting to see how Prowl responded to the stimulation. All the while, he traced more glyphs along the wing, silently telling Prowl how much he was adored. As Prowl's processors booted, his field began to express arousal at the touches more than simple pleasure. 

Mirage traced the last glyph _desire_ before running his hand to the edge of the wing where he activated the other magnet also at the lightest setting. 

"Ohh, love," Prowl moaned deeply from frame and vocalizer as the wing pressed into the magnetic field.

Mirage almost preened at the praise from his mate, which was even more than he'd hoped for when he'd decided upon this upgrade. He moved his other hand to the underside of the wing, carefully exploring how the two fields interacted as he brought them closer together. 

Prowl's optics flared to full power and his entire frame quivered with the intensity of the pleasure surging into him from that wing. His charge jumping from mildly aroused to needy in a matter of only a gasp, his hands clenched and the rest of his armor quivered and rippled.

Mirage clamped down firmly on his own arousal as he carefully increased the magnets' power, all the while monitoring his partner's frame and field. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this highly erotic display by turning it painful. Each gasp Prowl let out marked another doubling of his charge, something that was rapidly building to a crest he wouldn't be able to contain.

Mirage crouched down so he was almost laying on Prowl, needing to be close as he watched his mate fall into ecstasy. He worked both hands further along the wing towards the center of Prowl's back even as he bumped up the magnets' intensity. The click of the power upping was drowned out by Prowl's keen and the spasming locking up of Prowl's frame that rubbed their together in the most delicious ways as the overload surged across plating and into Mirage's frame at every contact point.

He dropped the magnets back to their lowest setting as he collapsed on the berth next to Prowl, his own systems desperate for attention as he clung to his mate. Mirage's hands ran along every part Prowl's frame he could reach as he waited for him to recover. Lazily Prowl rolled to his side to draw Mirage against him for a kiss that held more heat that Mirage expected.

"New upgrade?" Prowl purred as he teased his lover's frame, intent on driving Mirage to an overload as well.

"Yes." Mirage pressed against Prowl, basking in the attention as he let loose his own desire. "I thought you'd enjoy the attention."

"Very much," Prowl rumbled, as eager to feel his lover lose control as Mirage had been. "How may I reward you for such an effort?"

"Let me ride your spike." Mirage couldn't hide the surge of desire at the thought of further pleasing his mate.

"Willingly," Prowl moaned into the next kiss as his spike cover snapped open to expose the quickly emerging conical tip.

Mirage pulled away from the kiss and crawled backwards down the berth until he was facing Prowl's spike. He leaned in and pressed his glossa against the tip of the spike trying to coax it into his mouth. Strong hands stroked his frame, encouraging Mirage's pleasure as much as the pleasure and desire that flared in Prowl's field.

It only took moments for Mirage to coax the thick, heavily textured length from his mate, all to encouraging moans and the subtle roll of hips. He teased the spike with his glossa as he focused on Prowl's pleasure, driving his own charge higher with each glorious sound from his mate and flare of pleasure in that beloved field.

"Mirage," Prowl moaned and pleaded all in a single glyph.

Allowing his valve cover to snap open as he lifted his head away from the spike, Mirage pivoted and lifted his frame to straddle Prowl waist, teasing himself by sliding along the length of the spike as he watched the pleasure-saturated features of his mate. Oh, it was so rewarding to have such a responsive lover. Prowl was such a treasure.

Finally as he reached the tip he shifted just enough to allow the spike to enter his valve. Slowly he worked his way down until he was seated fully against Prowl's hips. He deliberately placed a hand just above Prowl's spike housing as rich golden optics brightened with the charge the slow movement brought. 

"Beautiful," Prowl whispered as his hands slid up Mirage's legs to rest on his hips. "Feels so good inside you."

Placing the other hand on Prowl's hip as a brace, he started moving along the spike feeling his charge grow with each stroke along the spike. Curious he activated the lowest charge in his magnets just as drove down hard on Prowl's spike, thrusting it deep into his valve. Prowl hips jerked upwards sharply at the surge of energy and sensation into the sensitive equipment and his optics flickered, his jaw slack as he was momentarily lost.

Mirage captured that image for his personal pleasure later. Seeing his lover caught in surprise pleasure like this was a special treat, one he hoped to create a few more times.

"Sneaky, lover," Prowl moaned in approval as he found his vocalizer commands once more. He slid his hands along Mirage's hips, seeking out gaps to tease him with as they moved together, each intent on pleasuring the other.

Mirage continued to play his magnets along Prowl's frame, tracing along the seams in his hips. Allowing himself to get lost in the pleasure he worked Prowl's spike with his valve, seeking to drive his lover's charge even higher before the crest and fall he could teek was coming. Prowl wouldn't last much longer, he could feel it in field and frame, and especially in the small jolts of electricity that jumped from Prowl's spike into his sensitive valve.

"Kiss," Prowl gasped out as his hands on Mirage's hips shifted from caressing to holding and the thrusts became more urgent. Leaning forward to willingly to obey his mate, Mirage abandoned any pretense of moving on his own and gave himself over to Prowl as he felt the spike drive into him. The kiss was commanding, consuming, and just as pleasurable as the driving thrusts that filled him.

Prowl's moan was deep as he gave himself over to the pleasure. With a last powerful thrust into the willing frame above him, he keened into that kiss with the first hot burst of transfluid into Mirage's valve. Mirage collapsed on top of his lover, lost in pleasure as his lover filled him. Without stopping the kiss he mindlessly reached up and fumbled his fingers along Prowl's wings, trying to draw just a little more pleasure from his mate's frame.


	7. Becoming One

Sunstreaker fussed with his paints and studio as he waited for Mirage. The commission to repaint the noble was both exciting and irritating. It wasn't often he was requested to paint someone of Mirage's caliber and refined aesthetics, and the noble wanted to be silver. _boring_. Though it fit with the other changes he'd made. It'd be creepy if he was sure which one was driving it. As it stood, it was just frustrating, and that was before his silver brother got going on the subject. What Sideswipe saw in Prowl was beyond him, and why he couldn't just go after Prowl when he was single was even more frustrating. Instead he'd waited until Prowl had a new lover willing to chase him away from the tactician before he'd make his move. Mirage's polite ping interrupted Sunstreaker's internal grumblings at his brother. Granted admittance, the noble walked into Sunstreaker's studio with an open confidence Sunstreaker still wasn't used to seeing in the spy.

"Still set on silver 56234A?" Sunstreaker asked as he took in the changed frame that held far deeper changes as well.

"Yes." Mirage nodded showing off the new sensory horns curved back over his helm. He had definitely aimed for a Praxian aesthetic but it suited the noble's frame well.

"And highlights?" Sunstreaker asked, hoping he'd be allowed to do something interesting with this frame.

"What do you have in mind?" Mirage asked after considering the suggestion, acknowledging Sunstreaker's skills in this field.

"A couple pinstripes along your alt mode flanks, highlighting your features, maybe a few glyphs in out of the way spots. This is for Prowl, right?" he asked.

"I would like to continue to be attractive in his optics if that's what you mean." Mirage kept his tone polite but the spy mask was firmly in place.

Sunstreaker simply nodded. "Praxians are big on visual cues. Colors _mean_ something, and so does placement, even among the commoners. Since you don't have all their parts, there's some artistic license involved, but you really should have some gold on your helm or face, and some red visible. You're a noble and mated to an important mech. They show that off on their frame."

The professionalism helped Mirage visibly relax as he pondered Sunstreaker's advice. "What else do you recommend? What glyphs?"

"I'd put the red along your horns. Just a solid stripe following the curve," he began thoughtfully as he stalked around his subject. "Some sort of gold mark on your forehelm. Depending on how serious things are with Prowl, you can put his designation in it. A House, clade or function crest are also common."

Mirage felt a settling in his code as he visualized the public statement the changes to his helm would make regarding his status with Prowl. "The gold mark with his designation and the red stripes are acceptable additions."

Sunstreaker nodded with a pleased ripple of his armor. "Are there any colors you'd like on your frame, other than silver? Just a few subtle lines would make your grace and construction stand out more."

Mirage simply accepted the compliment regarding his frame as his due. "The same red as the horns with black accent. Unless that has a meaning I should avoid?"

"No, it's in Prowl's color scheme and won't clash with yours," Sunstreaker said with confidence. "Now, if you stand there and spread your limbs, we'll get started."

* * *

Prowl really did not appreciate being dragged from his office to oblige the Prime's concept of needed socialization with the troops, but he wasn't going to refuse an order over it. He wanted to be in his office when Mirage returned, not in public where he was likely to embarrass at least one of them. Prowl didn't expect many more modifications given Mirage's frame specifications, but the noble had displayed similar field fluxes and behaviors before each addition. He paid only absent attention to his Prime's talk, and to those around him, until he spotted movement near the door.

His processor nearly stalled at the vision in silver with rich red stripes down his new sensory horns and the shield for a crest on his forehelm.

Ignoring the reactions of every other mech in the room, Mirage strutted straight towards his bright-opticked lover. Prowl was locked on him, the perk of his doorwings marking attraction and possessiveness.

Mirage came to a halt right next to their table. For the first time since entering the room he acknowledged anyone other than his lover. "Prime. Prowl, May I join you?"

"Of course, Mirage," Optimus said graciously. "Your new look is ... interesting."

Prowl simply kept his optics on his lover with a growing teek of lust curling into his field.

"Thank you, Prime. I am enjoying the change." Mirage sat down next to Prowl running a hand lightly along his lover's leg. "Do you like it, Prowl?"

"Yes," he rumbled. There was a moment of hesitation, conscious of his status and how public this was, before he leaned over to claim Mirage's mouth. Mirage practically melted against Prowl as they kissed, his field filled with joy, satisfaction and desire. He helped without seeming to as Prowl pulled him into his lap and fully against his frame without breaking the kiss that was beginning to get trills and whistles from those watching.

Goaded on by the public display of affection, Mirage slipped one hand around and stroked the bottom edge of Prowl's wing. ::Want you, love.::

Prowl shivered, his temperature spiking along with his pre-arousal charge. ::Always.:: Prowl rumbled and suddenly he was standing, Mirage still held against him. "Excuse us, Prime."

Prime was staring at Prowl like he'd spontaneously grown another head. No, his gaze was locked on Mirage.

"Prime?" Prowl's focus on his mate cooled almost instantly as it locked onto his leader.

"Of course, Prowl." Prime couldn't seem to take his optics off the pair. "Go enjoy your time with your mate."

"Thank you, Prime," Prowl relaxed and drew Mirage close for the walk to their quarters.

"You noticed too," Ratchet's voice was low as he came close to sit down.

"That was not standard second creation coding in action." Prime murmured, made note of everyone else's reactions to the display trying to see if anyone besides Ratchet had noticed how atypical that display was for pair. Sunstreaker's visible satisfaction only confirmed his handiwork with Mirage's frame.

"I didn't think so either, but have no idea what it might be," Ratchet huffed. "I'm sure it's Jazz's handiwork though."

"That display was everything I would have expected from Jazz and nothing someone of Mirage's status should have done." Prime rumbled, bothered by the strange impressions he was getting from the Matrix. "I rejoiced when Prowl found happiness with Mirage; now I fear what this is doing to them both."

"I wouldn't worry too much about Prowl, honestly. How much of Mirage is left by the time someone figures out what's going on is the real question. I know he's cleared every psych-doc and medic we have, but that doesn't mean much against a second creation with Jazz as a handler," Ratchet grumbled.

"Why would Jazz want this? What happens to Prowl if this destroys Mirage?" Prime continued, still staring at the doors. "Did you see the glyph on Mirage's helm?"

"I did. Is that a noble thing?" Ratchet asked. "Since the process seems to be turning Mirage into Jazz, I'm not sure anything would happen to Prowl."

"It's a Praxian tradition publicly naming someone as a mate." Prime vented heavily. "I just hope Prowl can accept losing Mirage to gain an imitation of Jazz. I don't want to loose both of them."

"You're going to one way or another," Ratchet pointed out grimly. "You're going to lose all of us that don't lose you."

"I know old friend." Prime vented heavily. "Maybe I should ignore my own concerns and simply rejoice that they seem happy for now."

"Don't ignore them, but don't focus either. They've got a few vorns of happiness and pleasure. It's more than most are expecting, or will get." Ratchet couldn't help how glum he was despite the perky, happy warmth in his spark. "We both know I'm one of very few that has a lover still functioning. It's difficult to remain positive when even the slowest processor knows there's no future, no hope for one."

Prime sighed heavily and stared at his cube. So much lost. "I know a few others are following Prowl's example and taking another look at their comrades hoping they can still find someone." Rallying himself, he took a drink and deliberately raised his voice to normal conversation level. "How are you and Wheeljack doing?"

Ratchet chuckled and took the better subject for what it was. "I've only seen him outside my medbay since bonding. Though not for lack of opportunities. There's this _feeling_ I get now when he's about to do something idiotic and can yell beforehand."

Optimus smiled at Ratchet's news. "That explains the decrease in explosions in the labs. A fortunate side-effect of your bonding."

"I don't think you'll find anyone who disagrees," Ratchet smirked. "At least not anyone who'd remotely sane. Speaking of lack of sanity, are those lunatics taking care of you?" he looked pointedly at Prime.

Optimus huffed from his vents in good humor. "They aren't lunatics. They are _young_."

Ratchet gave Prime his best unimpressed look. "You forget, I'm the one that patches them up after they get bored. Are they treating you right?"

"Given they aren't in my berth yet, yes, they are treating me fine," he promised. "Besides, there's at least one that already belongs to another, even if he hasn't realized it yet," he cast a meaningful gaze at the blue mech training to be a medic.

Ratchet snorted. "Sooner Mirage puts Sideswipe in the Medbay the sooner Jolt can get to work on him."

"Agreed," Optimus sipped his fuel. "I don't expect it will take much longer."

* * *

As the door closed behind them Mirage pressed Prowl against the wall. Grinding his heated frame against his mate he purred into Prowl's audial between nips at his neck. "Want you. Need you."

Prowl could barely think between his moans as he pressed back, wanting this as much as his lover. "Anything. Everything. Yours."

"Mine." Mirage's panel snapped open as he bit at Prowl's neck. With a shuddering moan Prowl went completely pliant, eager and willing to be taken. The sound of his valve cover sliding open only intensified the lust in Mirage's frame and the need in Prowl's. Mirage barely noticed the strange possessiveness anymore. He just knew he was sick of Sideswipe lusting over his Prowler. He could tolerate it if Prowl returned the interest, but the warrior needed to take the hint!

"Yes. Always," Prowl managed to moaned as he tipped his hips and shifted his balance to spread his legs for his lover. The fragile control Mirage had been maintaining snapped with his mate's wanton display. One hand grabbed Prowl's hip as he made one long steady thrust to press his spike into the waiting valve. The other hand clutched one of Prowl's arms, pulling it to the wall above his head. Prowl lifted the other and cupped his hands together.

It amounted to an incredibly erotic display for them both and difficult to tell who was more turned on by what. It didn't really matter to the lovers, though. They felt the perfection of their unified frames and the intensity that was bringing his lover pleasure by being himself. Lost in the moment, Mirage drove into his mate's body, letting the desire and love sweep through his field that was concentrated on the eager mech to whom he had sworn eternal devotion all those vorns ago.

Their moans mingled as did their fields, an expression of pleasure and love that felt so right. When the overload crashed through them it was just a continuation of the joined pleasure. Neither knew who'd gone over the edge first. Pressing against the wall was as much to hold them upright as it was sensual as they recovered. Releasing Prowl's neck he purred as he brushed his glossa against the cabling. "More?"

"Yes, please, never have enough of you," Prowl whispered.

He pulled his hand from Prowl's hip and ran it up his frame to his wing, rippling magnetic pulses along every seam he could find along the way. "Berth or floor, lover? I want you under me screaming mah name."

"Berth," Prowl gasped out and half pulled, half-pushed Mirage before falling onto the soft padding and offering himself completely to the mech he loved. He was far too lost in the moment to care that Mirage was speaking as Jazz would.

Mirage settled with a predatory grin. Running both hands along Prowl's legs, he lifted them up onto his shoulders to position himself perfectly. The thrust into that slick, used valve with a groan that was far more about who he was inside and how welcome he was there than the physical pleasure that surged into his frame.

Leaning forward, he watched Prowl's face as he started to thrust with his spike. "Love watching you. Love feeling you on my spike."

The words were enough to make Prowl arch slightly and flutter his doorwings, offering an even greater display of his pleasure and his valve ripple and squeezed his lover.

Giving in to the offer, Mirage placed his hands on both doorwings and activated his magnets. His voice changed as he continued speaking. "Want to hear you love."

"Mirage!" Prowl's keen warbled and crackled with the charge surging through him at the efforts. "Love."

As he began to lose himself to the cresting overload, Prowl could feel his lover's wash across him. A soft, familiar voice whispered, "Love ya too."

Before he could process that, all threads were obliterated from the surging charge and pleasure until the whiteout crested and dropped him into a soft reboot. His first awareness was of a familiar and welcome field entwined with his own and no need to hurry to awareness. 

Mirage sprawled contently across Prowl's frame resting his head on Prowl's shoulder and enjoying the closeness as Prowl slowly booted and drifted to awareness. Impulsively he pressed a kiss to the side of Prowl's jaw. "Happy love?"

"Very," Prowl purred as he slid his arms around the light frame on top of his. "You are here."

"Yes, I am." Mirage snuggled in his embrace. _And I'm never leaving you again._ He didn't question the odd thought, rationalizing that missions were indeed few and far between now. "I relish every moment we spend together."

Prowl hummed his agreement and pleasure at that truth as he stroked Mirage's back. "I'm glad you found a way to accept me."

"And I'm happy you welcomed me into your life." Mirage chuckled lightly. "I'm glad we didn't dance around each other forever." _This time._

"Indeed," Prowl nuzzled him. "I did that once and still regret the vorns lost to it. I want love in my existence."

"I'm yours as long as you'll have me." _And you're mine._ Mirage curled one hand against Prowl's other shoulder as he silently celebrated those words.

"Forever," Prowl promised in a whisper he meant with all his spark.

* * *

Prowl sat in the officer's conference room, put at ease by the setting that looked, smelled and teeked so completely like Cybertron that it was easy to forget he wasn't home. When Metroplex arrived in three and a half more vorns it would be even more so. Leaving Earth for a lightly terraformed Venus was an exceptionally good idea. The humans had little interest in the world and as long as it was impossible on a practical level for them to make it habitable for themselves they would continue to be content to leave it to Cybertronians. The efforts to gently alter the planet's orbit so it would fall on the far side of the sun from Earth within a quarter century was also making excellent progress.

Optimus spoke opening the meeting. "Prowl, you have petitioned for formal challenge against Sideswipe. What are your reasons for this action?" He deliberately avoided using either mech's rank.

"Primarily to avoid an accident to him," Prowl kept his voice calm and level. "I know I can defeat him without deactivating him."

Several officers grunted or hummed at the statement. Whiplash snickered. Everyone there knew just how dangerous even a young SpecOps agent was. One of Mirage's experience was as deadly as they came. Prowl, at least, had his first training and core code in subduing without deactivating.

"You have been ignoring Sideswipe's attention the entire length of your relationship with Mirage with only one incident between them. How has the situation between Mirage and Sideswipe deteriorated to now require a challenge on your part?" Ultra Magnus seemed perplexed by the unusual dynamics of the situation.

Prowl actually let out a small huff. "I've recently committed to him in a way that is making him _highly_ intolerant of those who won't back off when asked politely. No, I did not ask what polite meant."

"Just that it didn't end up in my medbay or an incident report on your desk," Ratchet nodded.

"Correct," Prowl confirmed. "This challenge is the only way, short of being deactivated, that will cause Sideswipe to back off. It's better I fight than Mirage."

Ironhide grunted. "It also keeps the rest of the Blade Brothers from coming after Mirage if he acts."

"And the stakes in the challenge?" Optimus asked.

Prowl's doorwings twitched in displeasure. "The right to court me. If I win, he leaves me alone."

"And if ya lose, you're in his berth. Ya know that, right?" Ironhide asked a bit more carefully than usual.

"I am aware of the risks, yes," Prowl flicked his doorwings.

"And Mirage will accept the terms as well?" Ironhide stressed.

"No, he will not," Prowl sighed. "If Sideswipe wins, we are back to this point, only without the best option."

"If Mirage is really that volatile right now he might just attack Sideswipe if he does win." Ratchet grumbled, clearly sharing Ironhide's concerns. "Better have someone near him just in case." He looked straight at Whiplash.

"Right, right. I'll keep him from doing anything to Sideswipe if Prowl loses," Whiplash waved the concern off.

"Sideswipe is good," Prowl stated calmly. "I am better."

"Reluctantly I agree that your challenge is the best solution we have to this problem." Ultra Magnus rumbled.

"Agreed," Optimus nodded, uneasy but willing to trust Prowl's judgment. "I believe this is a match that most officers should attend."

Ironhide snorted. "Really Prime? You think there is _anyone_ that won't be attending?"

Optimus ignored Ironhide and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "If you issue the formal challenge within the next groon everything will be in order to proceed within the next six joor."

"Then I will speak to Sideswipe now," Prowl said and stood. "Mirage will be pleased to have this settled. So will I."

* * *

Mirage had a small area clear around him despite the crowd hovering around the challenge circle. It might have had something to do with the frown and level of aggravation running through his field. Prowler shouldn't have to dignify that frontliner with a challenge; Sideswipe's behavior was clearly out of line and beyond tolerance. Still, as the two combatants readied for the signal to begin, at least this way he'd get to watch his Prowler fight. As rarely as it happened, it always made him swoon. The make-up 'facing afterwards, and getting to dote on him during recovery was always worth it too.

Despite his desire to watch his mate, Mirage couldn't help but watch the crowd too. All sixty-nine mecha on Venus were present, and most seemed to be cheering for Prowl. He could see many of the officers attempting to appear neutral, but it was obvious to him that Ratchet in particular wanted Sideswipe's aft thoroughly beaten, and be done quickly.

Mirage couldn't agree more. As gratifying as it was watching his mate show off, the sooner this was over, the sooner he could reward his mate for the trouble. Oh, he was _so_ looking forward to that. Maybe even some spark play. It was well past any point where he could be kicked out of this frame, or at least by any measures the current Prime would accept. A sideways glance at Whiplash and his knew his mentor was fully aware of who he was and accepted it. Others would take time, but so long as Prowl was okay with it, that was fine too. He'd defied Primus to claim a second shot at his mate and he wasn't going to be scared off by some puny mortals.

Did he really just think that? Puny mortals ... and apply it to the _Prime_?

The signal from Ironhide distracted Mirage from his strange thoughts. Sideswipe was moving towards Prowl with a swift strike from above, obviously trying to take him down early. Mirage almost purred as he watched his mate easily dodge the attack and retaliate with a swift blow toward Sideswipe's arm. Mirage could feel his frame running hotter as he watched his mate in action. Primus he wanted to feel that powerful frame under him. Prowl was beautiful in motion, whether it was anger, passion or calculation.

Each blow the pair exchange, dodged or danced around made Mirage run hotter. The way Prowl didn't even flinch when he was struck. The resounding ringing of armor being dented when he struck. It was deadly, and few seemed to grasp just how close the loser would have to be to deactivation before it was over.

Mirage still wished he could be the one to take Sideswipe down. It'd be so much quicker and drive home that no one came after his mate without permission. Prowl got so aroused every time Mirage took out a problem mech for him.

::You'd love to claim him right now wouldn't you?:: Whiplash commed.

::Of course,:: he huffed indigently back. ::Who _wouldn't_?::

::Well, he's not quite my type.:: Whiplash chuckled, then had to hold back hard laughter at the sharp glare he earned that spoke of him still being judged on whether it was true. ::Still, that was a nice strike on Sideswipe just now. I can see what you still see in him.::

::He's amazing,:: Mirage trilled hotly to his mate, encouraging him in what was becoming an energon-soaked event.

Prowl took a nasty gash to his leg from Sideswipe's latest lunge, but Mirage's charge jumped even hotter as he could see it was worth it. Prowl used the momentum to line up a perfect strike into Sideswipe's left shoulder joint, crippling the limb. More than a couple mecha gasped. Everyone knew Sideswipe as the dedicated, top-ranked frontliner. Up there with Ironhide and Ratchet as one of those you simply did not get into a fight with. Now a mech most thought of as a desk driver wasn't just holding his own his own against one of the most feared fighters in the war, but _winning_.

Mirage trilled and whistled encouragement as his spark fluttered. After this, he was going to offer his spark. He couldn't quite recall why he'd been holding off, but any thought of not merging was gone now.

The damage was severely slowing Sideswipe down. He managed a nasty blow to Prowl's right wing but lost one of his optics in exchange. By now everyone could see the end in sight.

::Nice to see him riling you up for a change.:: Whiplash laughed, watching his favorite protege's antics. These two had been entertaining him for vorns, and it was good to have them back together, even if he couldn't publicly acknowledge the fact.

::He always rile me up,:: Mirage gave him a very Jazz-like look before fixating back on the fight as Sideswipe was pinned by the heavier Enforcer frame.

"Surrender." Prowl growled down at the mangled mech. When Sideswipe didn't immediately respond he twisted the damaged left arm around, breaking a few more connections.

Sideswipe snarled at him and struggled, trying to throw him off, but it only earned growls from his brothers. Mirage tensed, as did many around the other Blade Brothers, but Sideswipe's snarl was clearly at his cadre.

Then he went lax, but Prowl didn't relax. The Enforcer waited until the hissed "Fine. I yield," came out before letting go. As Prowl stood Ratchet stalked up to him and the rest of the Blade Brothers collected their silver fifth with Jolt in attendance.

"You, get one breem." Ratchet pointed fearlessly at Mirage who was already halfway to Prowl. "Then he's in the Medbay until I say otherwise."

"Yes, yes, whatever," Mirage purred, his full focus on the lover who'd been damaged defending their honor. "Love, you were amazing," he slid his hands up Prowl's chest as he leaned in for a kiss that offered everything, including spreading his legs or mouth for Prowl right here in front of everyone. Prowl pulled Mirage into an intense claiming kiss ignoring the energon dripping from his wounds down onto his lover's frame. Both mechs were running extremely hot, riled by the fight and what it meant for the pair.

When the kiss finally ended for a brief moment, Prowl's hands were still roaming the silver frame he'd come to love. "Stay with me?"

"Long as you're _quiet_ ," Ratchet growled a warning. "No interfacing in my medbay."

"Hatchet can't keep me out." Mirage purred as he snuggled closer. He was certain he could sneak in some fun with his mate without Ratchet knowing. That would wait until Prowl didn't teek of so much damage though. As hot as he was, he wouldn't hurt the mech he loved so much by demanding attention when Prowl wasn't ready for it.

"That's it. He's mine until further notice," Ratchet rumbled, but didn't reach out to try and separate the pair.

"We will meet you there, Ratchet." Prowl rumbled, not willing to show any weakness after the challenge.

::Not a word out of you.:: Mirage knew Whiplash was still enjoying the show even if no one else could tell. He turned in Prowl's arms to help support his lover en route to Medbay, happy it was so much easier to do in this frame. He still wasn't as tall as Prowl and only a fraction of his mass, but the difference still helped a great deal.

::Wasn't going to,:: Whiplash teased him. ::Just tell him soon.::

::In _my_ time,:: Mirage rumbled back.

::As always,:: Whiplash agreed easily as they left the field for the medbay, then began to glide through the gathering to see how to display was taken and how their civilization was doing.

* * *

Mirage settled against his repaired mate's side on the medberth. It wasn't really big enough for two, but they made it work. Prowl was still in recharge, though the first hints of the boot cycle were showing in his field as systems powered up. Watching his mate cycle up after repairs wasn't nearly as fun as watching him reboot after an intense overload, but Mirage was perfectly willing to enjoy every moment spent with his mate. He ran his hands along the welds in Prowl's armor, memorizing the visible signs of their mutual devotion. "Loved watchin' you." He purred as Prowl roused. "Loved seein' ya teach 'em to respect my mate."

"Mm, even if you would have rather done the damage," Prowl murmured groggily as his field flared in bright welcome.

"Stupid mech should have listened the last time I kicked his aft. I should off ripped both his arms off after he tried to touch you." Mirage's field rippled with remembered anger briefly before he refocused on Prowl. "Made me hot watchin' you put him his place."

"That was worth it then. It's just to bad I was damaged too much to enjoy how hot you were," Prowl rumbled with a flare of desire.

"Mmm...the pleasure's worth the wait. Not like my desire for you's ever gonna burn out." Mirage traced his hand along Prowl's armor seams. "Your gonna have plenty of time to make it up to me."

"Indeed," Prowl agreed and reached over to draw Mirage into a lingering kiss. "I will always enjoy you, your company and our pleasure."

Mirage's field flared as they kissed, lapping up all the passion his mate could give. He craved Prowl's desire and affection like his frame craved energon. He shuttered in the kiss as one of Prowl's hands start playing with his horn.

"Since you're well enough to break my rules you can both just get out." Ratchet growled as he stomped out of his office, interrupting their fun. "Prowl, you're on light duty for the next two orn." He stared straight at Mirage. "Don't damage any of his repairs with your enthusiasm or it'll be three orn in here with no visitors."

"As if..." Mirage huffed indigently, both at the implication that he'd harm his beloved and that Ratchet was capable of keeping him out.

Prowl simply chuckled and sat up, Mirage still all but attached to him and stood with some care for his repairs and balance. "We will take our leave then. Good orn, Ratchet," he leaned on Mirage they started to leave, enjoying his presence and eager to get his mate back to their quarters.

"Just get out and stay out of here." Ratchet watched Prowl's steps, checking to see that all the repairs were functioning correctly.

"We'll let you get back to your fun with 'Jack." Mirage called back cheerfully as the stepped outside and grinned at the sputtering behind them. Prowl's amused teek increased the enjoyment as they walked in easy unison to their quarters. 

When the door finally closed, shielding them from the outside, Prowl pulled Mirage against his chest and claimed a kiss of fierce desire. Mirage returned the kiss with equal fervor, unleashing all his pent up desire in his field and frame. He couldn't keep his hands still, running them randomly across Prowl's back. He willingly moved with his love as he was pulled towards the berth and down, rolled onto his back with his lover over him, still kissing him passionately as that incredibly pleasurable spike was rubbing against his abdominals.

::Yours forever if you want it.:: Mirage eagerly opened his valve cover more than ready for that wonderful spike, but he wanted Prowl to know everything else was being offered as well. This was the time to share with his wonderful mate.

Prowl shivered at the implication, his gaze flicking to Mirage's optics, then slid down to his chest. He leaned forward to claim a heated kiss. ::Sate our frames, then our sparks.::

Mirage wouldn't contain the joy spilling out into his field. Finally, he'd really have his Prowler back. He pulled his legs up, wrapping them around Prowl's hips. He pressed both hands up against the base of Prowl's wings and activated his magnets. ::Take me now. Claim what's always been yours.::

With a deep, resonant moan that was as much desire as pleasure, Prowl sank forward, spreading his lover over with a smooth stroke that was a slow slide of welcome, blissful pleasure for them both. He stilled as they were flush, array to array, before drawing back and plunging forward. Mirage rolled his hips to meet the thrust, helping the spike's slide against every sensor in his valve lining. This was the bliss he'd returned for. The promise of his mate's spark, the joy of being enveloped in the pleasure of Prowl's field. It was everything that was right in the universe and it was _his_.

Prowl's x-vents developed into gusts and he grunted with each thrust that clanged their frames together and hilted him inside Mirage. It felt perfect. So perfect.

Mirage's hands danced along every sensor and seam he could reach on Prowl's frame paying special attention to those glorious wings. Anything to bring his Prowler more pleasure. "Want you always. Never give you up." He purred as his charge drove higher with each slide and thrust, then more by the crackle of his lover's charge.

"Never want you to. Never want to be alone," Prowl moaned, shivering as he pressed his face against Mirage's neck. "Close, love. Close."

"Together forever." Mirage's promise filled Prowl's audial. "Need to feel you."

It was more than enough for Prowl to shift his angle fractionally to trigger the hot spots on his spike and three thrusts later he keened against Mirage's neck and pumped the first burst of hot, charged transfluid deep into his love's frame. Mirage cried out, his voice thick with static and vision blurring as his own charge swept through his systems. It was perfection to overload together.

Mirage was only half-aware when he heard armor part felt Prowl's lip plates against his center seam. Humming contentedly he activated his own armor to begin separation. One hand rested lightly on Prowl's helm as he focused, wanting to see his mate's spark again. It was the same wonderful ice blue he'd long remembered, and his gaze held there as his spark came into view. Prowl knew Mirage's original spark color, a lovely sky blue, but it was a long-ago bit of trivia he might not recall as rich purple flooded the space between them and overshadowed the near-white light of Prowl's.

A sharp gasp escaped Prowl as he took in a spark he could never forget. His optics locked on it, fixated and shocked, yet his chamber still spiraled open.

"It's been too long, Prowler." It was that same hauntingly beautiful voice he'd been certain would never again grace his audials.

"How?" Prowl moaned, even as he lowered himself and his spark reached out for the long-familiar one below him.

"Not even Primus' call can keep me from you." Jazz smiled and kissed his mate as their sparks touched. "I made certain of that."

Shock, disbelief, desire, relief and horror all rolled across the connection from Prowl in that first touch, but more than anything, was a deep love for the spark joining his. ~Love you.~

A maelstrom of love, lust, desire and a pervasive strain of possessiveness echoed back from Jazz's spark. ~Forever yours, my Prowler.~

~Forever yours, Jazz,~ Prowl surrendered completely and willingly. Cognizant of how many ways this could be a bad idea and silencing each with not caring. This was Jazz. No matter how it happened, his mate was here.

~Want to bond with you. Always together.~ Jazz immersed himself in Prowl's spark, ecstatic to finally have his mate truly with him.

~Yes!~ Prowl keened across the connection and pushed more fully into it with all that Jazz meant to him fully in the fore, all the dreams he'd once had and all the ones he was beginning to form. Jazz embraced those dreams within his spark and shared his own as he pushed deeper into the connection. Images of the two of them lazing away cuddled together mingled with scenes of passionate embrace. Gatherings of family and friends with the two of them inseparable. Everything he'd struggled to gain for them laid bare for Prowl.

Prowl welcomed it all, and with it came the acceptance that Jazz's family was his now. Whiplash, Bumblebee, Hound, Blaster and others were all kind by bonding. Welcomed into the family.

The creation connection Prowl and Bluestreak had forged had long ago been accepted by Jazz. He now acknowledged his new ties to Red Alert, Smokescreen and the others now tied to him through Prowl. ~My mate. My kin.~

~We will continue until there is no reason to,~ Prowl offered control of that to his mate, trembling even as he did so. ~I will remain until you leave.~

**Author's Note:**

> It's More Than Just Parts
> 
> Fandom: Transformers Bayverse AU  
> Author: gatekat, fianna9  
> Pairings: Jazz/Prowl, Mirage/Prowl  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Codes: AU, Lots of G1 Imports, Post-War, Sticky, Sparks, Reprogramming, Ghost story, Creepy!Jazz
> 
> Summary: When Jazz is killed by Megatron, he leave a large hole in many lives. The two largest holes were in mechs that weren't even there to see him fall: his mate and his SIC. When they arrive on Earth and are repaired, they find themselves drawn together. Despite the odd looks, it works for them. But is it really _them_?  
>  Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page <http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html>. We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read. 
> 
> Notes: Basically, if they didn't appear in movie 1, it's the G1 version. Prowl, Bluestreak, Smokescreen, Dinobots, etc are all imports, not the comic or later movie versions.  
> Mirage: <http://alteride.deviantart.com/art/Dathanna-de-Gray-Mirage-214577280>
> 
> Credit to _Dathanna de Gray_ <http://tf-socket-fics.livejournal.com> ch Hunting Pleasure 30-32 for the bonding scene. 
> 
> nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter
> 
> Prompt:  
> Anyverse, G1 preferred - any pairing - recycling
> 
> I'm picturing this as G1 with Autobots, but other 'verses would probably work too.
> 
> Background: When a 'bot dies, his body is recycled - raw materials are melted down and reserved, any intact bits can be used to repair other 'bots. Technically you're not supposed to know which part came from whom, but there are ways to find out.
> 
> So, Mech A and Mech B were in a relationship, possibly even sparkbonded. Mech A dies, and his parts are used to repair Mech C. B and C find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other after the repair, and they begin a relationship - only to find out C is carrying A's parts, throwing their very sparks into doubt.
> 
> You could play this as a straight romance, or add some horror/ghost story elements. If kink is in the mix, you could play with C suddenly taking on some of A's preferences when he never had them before.


End file.
